


I See You Babe, But We Are Both Blind

by SoftlyandSwiftly



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Zayn, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Top Liam, just read it, not sure what else to tag, that honestly probably doesnt belong but oh well, zayns POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 07:05:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 61,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4696793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftlyandSwiftly/pseuds/SoftlyandSwiftly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn's fairly certain the world actually hates him. He's got the shittiest luck, and fate seems to want to fuck with him. But maybe that's exactly what he needs.</p><p>One Direction returns to London for a break from their Take Me Home Tour in August 2013, and after an unfortunate run-in at a coffee shop, Liam and Zayn find themselves in a fake relationship. Except, it ends up not feeling fake at all.</p><p>(Basically, I wanted to write fakedating!ziam).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Before

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Standard stuff, except I'd like to add that the way I portray Perrie and Danielle both in this fic is not at all reflective of how I feel about them in real life. It just worked well with the story. Which is pretty much par for how I write all the characters in these fics.
> 
> Also, this fic starts at the beginning of August 2013 and goes through about the middle of November. The timeline kind of works, but not really. I included some major events, including parts of the Take Me Home Tour. Basically, I just wanted to write TMH era Ziam and include a bunch of things I liked, so I did. This fic is purely self-indulgent, but I really hope you guys enjoy it. xxT

Before

 

Zayn’s obsession with coffee has been an ongoing love affair since he was barely fifteen, sucking smoke into his lungs and chasing the sour taste with the bitter tang like he needed both tangled together in his veins just to function. He’s tried quitting smoking multiple times – under weighty looks from his family, from his girlfriends, from his bandmates – but he’s never tried quitting coffee, and he thinks that says something about his addiction.

“Can’t believe you’re going out just for coffee, mate,” Louis mocks, echoing Zayn’s thoughts, and Zayn can practically hear him rolling his eyes. His voice comes out warped from Zayn’s phone because no matter how often Zayn complains, Louis can never just hold his phone and have a conversation. He always has to be _doing_ something, needs his hands free or else he feels trapped or something. He tried explaining it to Zayn once, but his voice was slow and rambling from the spliff shared between them, and Zayn’s not the best at focusing when he’s high anyways.

(And that’s probably why their friendship remains firmly at the partners in crime stage, nothing but good times and laughs and getting high. Refreshingly juvenile, and Zayn wouldn’t give it up for anything).

“I ran out at home,” he mutters back now, not nearly as put out as he should be. His patience stretches further these days because he hasn’t seen Louis’s manic face for nearly a week now, and the breaks always seem to stretch to infinity now that they’ve adjusted (somewhat) to the madness of their second tour. Three years later, and they don’t quite feel the need to live in each other’s back pockets when they’re at home.

(It’s a bittersweet development that Zayn will never admit he doesn’t love. He’s got his moody and distant front to keep up after all, and he can’t have the lads knowing just how much he enjoys having them around or he’ll never shake them off. Even missing them, Zayn knows that he needs space, always has and always will, and only Liam has ever been the exception because he respects the quiet Zayn craves in a way none of the other boys can master).

“You’re ridiculous,” Louis laughs, voice even farther off like he’s not in the same room as his phone. Zayn wants to yell at him to give the phone to Harry – especially since Harry’s the one that Zayn actually called – but he’s too bemused by the image of Louis so clear in his mind, traipsing about the new flat that’s under only his name but feels more like Harry when you walk in. “You haven’t been seen since our last concert, and you’re going out for _coffee_ ,” Louis continues, sneering the last word because Louis will always slight coffee in favor of tea.“You’re going to get swarmed, Malik.”

“Why would you say that?” Zayn demands, ducking his head out of pure instinct. Even the word – swarmed – sends an unpleasant chill down his spine. Casting just his eyes upward, he takes in the storefront of the coffee shop he only just arrived at – his nirvana this morning – with a suspicious gaze that the cheery place doesn’t truly deserve. It’s nothing but a cute shop, tucked away in a forgotten part of London, and Zayn can nearly smell the coffee from the sidewalk where he’s paused. Barely ten people crowd the interior, and it’s not like Zayn’s never been here before. Besides, Zayn reasons with himself, their fans never really want to hurt them. He’ll be fine. Probably.

“You didn’t bring security with you, did you?” Louis sounds pleased by this development, like he wants Zayn to get trampled.

“Fuck off.”

“Management will be pissed.”

“When aren’t they pissed at me, honestly?”

“Fair point.” Zayn can hear the careless shrug in Louis’s voice, and it makes a smile tug at his lips. Louis’s newly formed cavalier attitude towards management blazes with the stamp of Harry Styles’ influence. “But it’s your funeral. Where are you anyways? Here in London, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Zayn rolls his eyes as he ducks under the awning. His hood is pulled up against the drizzle, and he’ll probably leave it up once he enters, like another layer of the pathetic disguise he threw on. Clothed in joggers (Liam’s actually) and this hoodie (Niall’s, he thinks), he could possibly pass as just another lost kid in London looking for a bright future. “Just in the city for a bit before I head home to visit the family,” and Zayn knows that he’s definitely told Louis this at least twice, but Louis never keeps track of the other lads on break, claims he doesn’t have to since Harry does.

“You’re an idiot,” Louis cackles.

“Shut up.”

“You’re going to get coffee, without any security mind you, in London. Haz would gut you if he knew.”

“Do me a favor then and don’t tell your boyfriend?” Zayn grins as the word rolls off his tongue, a recent development that Louis’s finally allowed after years of refusing to label his and Harry’s relationship.

“I make no promises.”

He can easily hear the grin in Louis’s voice. “You’re grinning like a knob aren’t you?”

“Piss off, Malik. Go get trampled to death or something,” Louis yells, but he sounds vastly amused. He’s happy these days, Louis, and it’s a direct result of allowing himself to give into Harry (and to give up pretending that they aren’t forever, that management can control a relationship that spans longer than One Direction, not that the public knows that).

“Where’s Haz? I want to talk to him. He’d be sorry if I died at least.” His tone is nothing but teasing, and a grin pulls at his lips, directed upwards to the sky. Clearly the chemical imbalance from a crucial lack of caffeine is getting to him, and Zayn’s just thankful no one’s out here to witness his goofy smile.

A shuffling sound indicates that Louis’s actually deigned to pick up his phone now. His voice comes through much clearer when he demands, “What is wrong with you today? You sound positively cheerful, and it’s barely past noon.”

Zayn snorts because it isn’t even noon yet. He gets where Louis’s coming from though; mornings aren’t his favorite time anyways, and he’s been stormy lately. But... well he just feels good today. “I’m happy.”

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

“Piss off, Lou. I said I’m happy,” Zayn laughs. He can’t pinpoint exactly what’s changed since he sank into a dark place four months ago, but he feels lighter today. Could be the time he’s spent alone, huddled in his flat. Could be the visit from Liam three days ago to drop off a ridiculous amount of comic books that reminded Zayn of his childhood. Could be anything, really.

“You sound it,” Louis hums. “Haven’t heard you this pleasant since before, well...”

Zayn’s back stiffens against the rough bricks he’s been leaning against, and it’s a reaction he hasn’t managed to train himself out of. “Since Perrie,” he sighs out. _Since four months ago. Since a quiet phone call late at night and an even quieter whisper of “This just isn’t working.”_ He can’t avoid the truth anymore, not after four months of facing the facts, though he’d definitely tried to ignore it all those first couple of months. It’d taken quite a bit of alcohol, numerous late night confessions, and _Liam_ before he even felt halfway human again.

Now all Zayn’s got to show for a two year long relationship is a ring that’s never seen the light of day and regret heavy on his tongue. ( _Though,_ a part of his mind whispers, _he’s also got an even stronger relationship with Liam, and that’s not something he’d ever trade away now)._

“Oh, so we’re allowed to say her name again?” Louis questions. “No more referring to she-who-must-not-be-named?”

“She’s not Voldemort, Lou.”

“She broke your heart. I’m allowed to hate her.”

“She didn’t –”

“She did,” Louis says firmly, even though Zayn never let the others see how deeply Perrie cut him when she pulled herself out of his life. Only Liam got to see those wounds, but they were pretty obvious to the others anyways, he knows.

Zayn lets his head smack back against the bricks, sighing deeply as he gut tightens in a faded away. It stings like an old bruise these days, tender and sore but only when directly poked at, no longer that bleeding cut that won’t heal. “She did,” he murmurs, hearing the hollow ache in his own voice and wishing it wasn’t there. He hates that his heartbreak is public domain, hates that he can’t hide from it, hates that even if he’s better now, everyone will still see someone damaged when they look at him, no matter what Liam says.

Louis’s silent for a moment and then, “Shit.” He sounds guilty, and Zayn can just picture the sheepish expression on his face. “Liam’s going to hate me for making you sad about this again.”

Zayn’s startled into a genuine laugh. “Li’s not gonna know.”

“Right, like you’re not going to run off and tell him.”

“We aren’t you and Haz,” Zayn argues, fondly rolling his eyes. “We don’t immediately tell each other everything.”

“Of course you aren’t me and Haz,” Louis sounds scandalized. “You’d have to be in love and dating, or at the very least shagging. You two aren’t shagging, are you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Louis snorts. “Ridiculous sure. Like you wouldn’t if you had the chance.”

Zayn actually pauses at that because – well, it’s not like the thought has never crossed his mind. Back when X Factor was happening, when he was painfully shy and thrown into close proximity with four lads who were meant to be like his family, back when Liam was the only reason he didn’t feel like he was drowning, he had thought about it. It would’ve been impossible not to honestly. Zayn had just been coming to terms with possibly fancying lads like he fancied girls, and Liam was fit, even back then. And they’d constantly been together too, Liam the first one Zayn felt anything even close to friendship with. They’d fit together naturally, easy as breathing, and Zayn had truly thought about what that could mean, had been half-tempted to try _something_ with this boy as nerdy as him, but then Danielle had happened, and then Perrie had come along and well – he and Liam just settled into a close friendship instead.

“Holy shit!” Louis crows, snapping Zayn out of his thoughts. “I was joking, but you were actually considering that! Christ, Malik, do you fancy Liam or something?”

“Of course not,” Zayn can feel his cheeks heating despite himself. “You know I don’t. It’s not like that between us.”

“Right,” Louis sounds like he’s seconds away from laughing. “And you two just have to be touching all the time because that’s what best mates do.”

“We do not –” Zayn cuts himself off with a frustrated shake of his head. He doesn’t know why he’s denying it so hard. Louis’s just teasing, and it isn’t true. He hasn’t fancied Liam since he was seventeen and still figuring out his place in the world. “Fuck off, Lou. You sound like our fans. We all invade each other’s space like that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You don’t even fancy boys.”

Guilt gathers on the back of Zayn’s tongue because he really should have told the others by now that he does occasionally fancy lads, but there was just never a reason to, not when Perrie seemed like – well, he just never did tell them.

Louis’s continuing on before he can even think of trying to tell him right now though, “Just a funny thought, yeah? You and Leeymo.”

Zayn sighs, squinting up at the clouds in slight irritation. “Hilarious.”

“Oi don’t be pissy princess. I was only teasing.”

Zayn knows. Louis’s always only teasing, and he doesn’t mean hardly any of it. His problem has always been pushing too far though.

“Zaynie,” Louis whines. “Seriously, forgive me. Liam’ll kill me if you don’t.”

“He won’t.”

“He will. He’s right protective of you since the breakup, and we all know it. Now stop denying that Liam’s your knight in shining armor, and forgive me.”

Zayn can’t help but laugh, forgiving Louis mostly because it’s just too hard to stay angry at the funny lad. Besides, it’s not like Louis doesn’t have a point; Liam’s been careful with him since his relationship with Perrie imploded. Proper best mate, that’s what Liam is, always has been. He’s right there for Zayn whenever he feels like he’s two seconds away from falling apart, and Zayn knows he wouldn’t have managed the fame or any of it if Liam hadn’t been by his side. Not exactly a knight, but definitely a better person than Zayn thinks he’ll ever be.

“Liam would look lovely on a horse,” he teases to let Louis know that he’s truly forgiven.

“Fuck right, he would,” Louis clings to the peace offering immediately. “Goddamn Prince Charming that one. Think he’s going to be the favorite of the band soon.”

“Oh, Lou, don’t worry. You’ll always be the fan favorite.”

“Please,” Louis scoffs. “Harry’s had that title since he first flashed those dimples of his.”

“Cheater,” Zayn quips.

Louis groans. “He knows he’s irresistible too, has since he was fourteen when I met him. Bloody bastard.”

“You love him.”

“I do, which reminds me that he’s here, and I’ve not gotten a blow job in hours. So if you’ll excuse me –”

Zayn groans, fighting hard against the mental image his mind is trying to form. “Fuck you, Lou. Nobody wants to hear about your sex life.”

“On the contrary, prude, there’s an entire fandom that would kill to hear these details. You should be grateful.”

“Yeah, I’ll try to keep that in mind the next time I walk in on the two of you.”

“You should learn to knock.”

“You were in our dressing room! _Our,_ as in all of ours!”

“Hush,” Louis ignores Zayn’s very valid point. “Now go get coffee and be your natural broody self. If you’re nice, I promise I won’t tell Payno that you snuck off without security.”

“You wouldn’t,” Zayn hisses, suddenly nervous. He knows how Liam is, how protective, how ridiculous about their safety.

“I would,” Louis sounds triumphant. “Play nice. See you in another couple of weeks, ta!” He hangs up before Zayn can make him swear not to tell Liam about this impromptu trip.

He bites his lip and studies his phone, debating on just calling Liam himself. He doesn’t really feel like getting yelled at though, and there’s a pretty high chance Louis won’t ever mention this. But... Well honestly, Zayn detests the idea of Liam being even the slightest bit mad at him. With a sigh, he shoves his phone in his pocket and resolves to head over to Liam’s after he grabs a coffee. Maybe if he shows up at Liam’s place with an apology-coffee, Liam won’t yell.

Pushing into the coffee shop, Zayn smiles when he hears the familiar tinkling of the bells over the door. He really does love this place, with its casual charm and chill atmosphere. He can’t avoid thoughts of Liam once inside though, since Liam is the one who first brought him here. Zayn can clearly remember the faint blush high on Liam’s cheeks as he explained that he’d come to this place a few times and he’d never been bothered. It’d been just after their very first tour, when Zayn had felt close to exploding out of his skin, detesting how he couldn’t even walk out of his flat without getting hounded. Liam had known how he felt, of course, and he’d remembered how much Zayn loved getting coffee from before the X Factor. At the time, Liam had tried to play it off like this was just a place he knew, but Zayn’s fairly certain that Liam actually searched for a place like this, probably spent hours hunched over a computer because that’s just the type of lad Liam is.

Glancing around now, Zayn fondly remembers being knocked speechless by the strength of Liam’s compassion, standing in the entrance way with a fidgeting Liam before him. He’d nearly shoved Liam over with the force of his hug, and he’d forced Liam to cuddle with him on one of the sofas for hours afterward.

He definitely plans on buying Liam a coffee now, the memory of him so close. He misses him quite suddenly, the quick onset of separation anxiety that they all suffer from. Zayn and Liam are always particularly bad though, and Zayn hates Louis for putting the idea into his head that his and Liam’s attachment goes beyond friendship.

(It does kind of sound like a proper boyfriend response though, missing Liam after only a few days of being apart, but it’s not like any of their relationships with each other are exactly normal).

He’s just glancing up at the menu, wondering what to get Liam as he wanders up to the register, when he spots a familiar head of brown curls out of the corner of his vision. Turning to the girl in surprise, Zayn blinks a few times just to make sure he’s not seeing things. It’s definitely her though, and Zayn nearly laughs with how coincidental it all is, that he’d run into Danielle right now, when he’s thinking about Liam.

And he and Danielle didn’t part on the best of terms the last time, but she’s still Liam’s girlfriend, so Zayn doesn’t think twice about saying hi.

Approaching her swiftly, Zayn wonders if Liam’s with her by chance, if he might not have to go all the way out to Liam’s house, so he’s not even really thinking about whether or not he should bother Danielle.

She jumps when he lays a hand on her shoulder, and Zayn smiles a bit guiltily when she whirls around to face him. “Hey Danielle.”

He expects a relieved smile, maybe a quick laugh like the one she normally gives him, but Danielle just gapes at him, eyes and mouth round with shock. Zayn pulls his hand back, slowly, suddenly uncertain.

He and Danielle have never been friends and it’s been strained between them a few times – when she and Liam were particularly bad and when he just couldn’t hold back what he was thinking, Vegas being the most recent moment – but Zayn’s always thought they were on relatively good terms, certainly good enough to say hi to each other in public.

Looking at her rapidly darkening expression now, Zayn wonders if he didn’t overestimate their casual acquaintance. “Danielle?” he tries again, suddenly very aware that they’re in public. It would have looked odd if he hadn’t greeted her, if anyone ever found out that they saw each other in this little coffee shop, but now he’s thinking he should have risked that. Anger is apparent on Danielle’s face, and Zayn can’t begin to imagine what he’s done to deserve it.

“Of course you’re here,” she hisses, sudden just like a snake. It’s a tone of voice he’s heard before, but only when she and Liam had been fighting (and he’d really tried to forget that because it was followed by him advising Liam to dump her and then a fight between him and Liam that he hates to remember at all). “Christ, I should’ve realized,” she continues, glaring at him steadily. “I mean it is Liam’s place after all, right? So why wouldn’t he have brought _you_ here?”

“I –” Zayn hesitates because he’s not really sure what he’s supposed to say to that. Growing up with three sisters, he should honestly be better at handling angry women (or well, angry people in general) but he really isn’t. He’s more of an avoider when it comes to confrontation, and he definitely wants to avoid this one if he can. So he deflects, “Is Liam with you?”

Her eyes narrow, and Zayn’s not sure how exactly, but he knows he’s just made it worse. “Are you joking, Malik? Are you fucking joking?”

“No?” Zayn’s nervously glancing around now, registering that Danielle’s raised voice has already caught the attention of the nearest man, a business guy in a nice suit, who luckily is only watching them with slight amusement. But if they draw any more attention, Zayn will get recognized; it’s always only a matter of time. He was already risking exposure just by being here.

“Oh my God!” Danielle’s voice echoes loudly, and Zayn flinches, flushing under the scrutiny he’s sure they’re now getting. He wants to tell Danielle to be quiet, but she’s pissed, absolutely and obviously livid as she glares at him. “Are you really going to stand there and pretend you don’t know?” she demands. “Seriously?”

“Don’t know what?” Zayn can’t help but respond, honestly mystified.

“Don’t play dumb! Liam pulled the same shit, and I am so fucking done! I know, Zayn! I know, so you can just drop this little innocent act, alright?”

“Know what?” he nearly yells, irritation making his voice sharp. He’s on edge from the weight of a dozen stares though, and he just knows that somebody’s pulled their phone out by now. His hood is still up, but it’s a piss poor disguise, and Danielle is very conspicuously herself. His confusion isn’t helping, but he has no fucking idea what Danielle is going on about. What does she know? What is he supposedly playing dumb about?

“You’re really going to make me say it?” Danielle demands, hands fisted at her sides, and her anger is very real. Whatever she’s mad over, it clearly feels justified to her. If only Zayn could figure out what it was. Her eyes challenge him, but Zayn’s always been stubborn so he’s not backing down, even though a voice in the back of his head is saying he should.

The next words out of her mouth make him wish that he had.

“I know that you’ve been fucking Liam behind my back!”

_What?_

It’s honestly the only thought that registers for an endless moment as everything falls to silence around them. Danielle’s face is thrown into sharp clarity, and she’s still pissed, but she looks pleased now. She looks justified, like she’s in the right or something.

_Fucking Liam. She thinks... She can’t honestly think... Does she really think I’ve been fucking Liam?_

Zayn doesn’t even have a chance to try and respond to that before Danielle’s going off again.

“Speechless? Yeah, you should be! I can’t believe you two have been fucking behind my back for months! Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? Like your jealousy wasn’t obvious every time I came around! Fucking cheaters, the least you both could do is admit it to my face!”

The word cheaters ricochets around Zayn’s mind for an endless moment because he can’t think of a word that describes Liam less. Liam is the exact opposite of what a cheater is. Zayn feels outraged on his behalf, that this girl he’s been with for so long clearly doesn’t know Liam at all. He’s not even angry about what she’s accusing him of, only the insult to Liam registering in his shocked mind. The silence drags, and it’s only the flash of a camera that snaps Zayn back to himself.

He quickly takes in the dead silence of the coffee shop, the way every single person is focused on them, and he realizes that he’s going to have to respond if he hopes to keep this controlled at all.

“Danielle,” he tries to keep his voice calm. “I don’t know what you think you know but –”

“Think I know?” she demands, eyes flashing. “I don’t _think_ anything! Liam admitted it!”

“He what?” Zayn blinks dumbly at her because that can’t possibly be true. It _isn’t_ true. He _knows_ it isn’t.

“When I confronted him. Oh, he tried to deny it too, but eventually he all but admitted it,” Danielle shakes her head like she’s disgusted. “I broke up with him, of course. He cheated on me with you, so you can just –”

“No,” Zayn cuts her off because it’s not true. It’s not true, and he can’t stand to hear her say that, not about Liam. The phones focused on them are the last thing on his mind now. He’s much more focused on the fact that Danielle just said she broke up with Liam for a reason that isn’t even true. “No, Danielle Liam would never cheat! Of course he wouldn’t! Shit, why would you – He loves you! He loves you so why –”

The sharp smack of flesh on flesh echoes throughout the coffee shop, and it takes Zayn a moment to catch up, to figure out why he’s now looking at the counter, cheek stinging like he’s been – _Oh._ Danielle slapped him. A gasp races around the shop, and Zayn can relate. He can’t believe that Danielle just slapped him, but he can feel it now. His cheek stings as blood floods his skin, and he knows what a slap feels like.

Danielle slapped him.

Anger invades his senses for a moment, and he turns back towards her slowly. “What the fuck?” he drags out every word, teeth clenched.

Danielle stares back at him, shocked like she can’t believe that she actually hit him either.

Zayn opens his mouth, ready to shout and call her names that he’s never considered calling a woman before, but then his eyes snag on a phone just behind her. It’s clearly levelled at them, and from the way the kid is holding it, Zayn just knows that he’s recording this entire thing.

When he turns back to Danielle, she’s clearly gathered herself. Shaking her head, she backs away. “Fuck you both,” she mumbles, tears gathering in her eyes. “Just – fuck you and Liam both.”

She’s gone before Zayn can even think to try and deny it again, not that he can even come up with the words right now. He’s having trouble processing how his morning concaved around him so suddenly, and he keeps thinking of all the phones trained on him.

He feels vaguely nauseous, and he doesn’t even want to know what his face looks like right now. Shocked, probably, but it’s going to look bad. It doesn’t matter how much of the fight these people actually caught; it’ll be everywhere soon. Zayn has no hope of stopping it. Even as he struggles to pull himself together, he can see people lowering their phones and furiously typing. He could definitely try and demand that they delete the video or pictures or whatever, but he wouldn’t succeed.

It’s too late.

Danielle accused him of fucking Liam and then slapped him, and every single person here heard that. They’re fucked. They’re so fucked, and it doesn’t matter that it’s not the truth. Zayn knows how rumors work, and this is much worse than a rumor.

“Hey are you okay?” the girl behind the counter asks.

Zayn just looks at her dumbly. He thinks suddenly of Louis’s earlier prediction – _Management is going to be pissed_ – and yeah, he thinks, Louis has no idea. Management is going to kill him.

“No,” he forces out, barely looking at the poor girl. “I’m so sorry.”

He spins on his heel and leaves without another word. His head is nothing but noise right now, noise and confusion.

 

He calls Liam.

It’s not even a thought really. One minute he’s stomping down the street, fuming and buzzing with confusion, and the next his phone is to his ear, and he’s hearing Liam’s voicemail message.

“Fuck,” he mutters, hanging up and calling again. His steps are loud against the concrete, people dodging out of his way like he’s a delinquent, and Zayn doesn’t even care. He’s focused entirely on his phone as it continues to ring and then –

‘Hi this is Liam! Sorry for missing your –’

Zayn hangs up on his mate’s cheerful voice, the sound of it grating on his raw nerves. He’s illogically pissed at Liam right now, and it’s probably actually for the best that Liam hadn’t answered because Zayn’s not sure what he’d even say. Probably something along the lines of getting his girlfriend’s fucking head checked. Definitely not a nice conversation.

Yanking his phone back down, he glares at the screen and rubs a hand over his face. His cheek still feels warm, and he wonders if Danielle actually left the shape of her hand imprinted on his skin. Of course that just reminds him that she slapped him, and it’s on video somewhere, probably online already and –

It’ll be all over the web, Twitter and everywhere else, and Zayn hasn’t done a damn thing about that.

He dials again, not Liam this time though. Bringing the phone back up, Zayn chastises himself. He can’t believe that he didn’t call management right away. That’s just – a mistake really. The lack of coffee is catching up to him, thoughts all over the place with clarity nowhere in sight. Liam was his first thought, but this definitely should have been. Damage control, how many times has he been versed in it now?

“Zayn,” his assigned assistant answers immediately, and Zayn nearly flinches. She sounds unhappy which is a new thing for her. This girl’s relatively new, pretty young too, and Zayn really hoped she’d stick around. He doubts she will now. “What happened?”

“Ran into Danielle in a coffee shop and –”

“Yes I saw that,” she cuts him off. “There are multiple videos up already, pictures and such. Twitter is blowing up with it, hashtags and all. I meant what happened to prompt that?”

“I –” Zayn’s not even sure how to answer that because the answer is nothing. Nothing had prompted that. He certainly hadn’t done a single thing. He stops in the middle of the sidewalk, furious all over again. “I have no idea! She just – I only said hi! I had no idea –”

“Are her accusations true? People are reporting that she claimed you and Liam have been cheating on her.”

Zayn winces. That’s definitely a nice way of putting what Danielle had shouted at him, but also – what? “No!” he nearly shouts. “Christ, do you really think –”

“Fine,” she cuts him off again, and Zayn wants to slam his head against the nearest wall. This is why he hates talking to management; they care relatively little about the truth, so much more focused on the problem and handling it. “I’m sending Preston to you right now. Where are you?”

He doesn’t fight her over giving up his location. He’s suddenly very aware that he’s exposed, out on the street as he is. If anyone focuses on him, if even one person tweets out his location right now, he’ll be swamped in minutes. He can’t stand the idea of scrutiny right now; his skin is already itching like he has ants crawling over him. Rattling off the nearest cross streets, Zayn lets himself lean against the nearest wall.

“I’m sending Preston to you,” his assistant says, voice carefully controlled. “Do not move until he gets there, and then go straight home. Do not post anything. Do not call anyone. Go home and wait for further instructions.”

Zayn wants to scream, he’s so frustrated. He hates this. It’s like a fucking gag order, and it’s ridiculous.

“Mr. Malik,” she snaps. “Please confirm that you will do as instructed.”

“Fine,” he grunts out, and then he hangs up before she can snap something else at him or before he growls something at her.

He’s angry, fucking irrationally so. He feels it building underneath his skin, seeking an outlet, and he hasn’t felt this unhinged since he was fucking fifteen or something, back when punching walls was the only real answer. Punching a wall actually sounds like a fine idea right now, but Zayn doesn’t. He leans his head back against the wall he’s leaning against instead because the last thing he needs is another video of him popping up on the internet today.

Preston arrives a bare five minutes later, and Zayn’s fairly certain that’s a new record. They regard each other from a few meters away as Preston remains by the waiting car, only halfway out because Zayn’s meant to be climbing in. He doesn’t want to, not yet, because he wants something else right now.

With an evaluating gaze, Preston takes in Zayn’s position, and Zayn lets him, hoping if Preston sees his frustration, he won’t fight Zayn on what he’s about to demand.

“I want to go to Liam’s.”

Preston frowns but doesn’t immediately say no, which is all the answer that Zayn really needs. “I was instructed to return you to your flat and then remain there with you.”

Zayn pushes away from the wall and ducks into the car, skirting past Preston just barely. “Yeah well I don’t much care.”

“Zayn –”

Zayn shakes his head, settling into the backseat of the nondescript car and making it very clear that he won’t argue about this. “We’re going to Liam’s.”

Preston just sighs as he climbs in beside him, telling the driver Liam’s address without another comment. His face is carefully blank, shoulders a straight line, and Zayn think it’s a blessing of sorts that their security team knows them all so well.

Preston knows better than to argue with Zayn when he gets like this, so they settle into strained silence that lasts all the way out to Liam’s house.

           

“Liam!”

“Zayn –”

“Fuck off Preston,” Zayn throws over his shoulder, banging his fist against the door to Liam’s home. He’s stood outside the door, pounding on it because Liam hasn’t answered yet. This neighborhood is usually quiet – one of the reasons Liam picked it – and Zayn’s voice is shattering that tranquility. Not that he cares.

“You’re going to attract attention.” Preston still stands calmly in the driveway, car idling like he thinks there’s any chance of Zayn getting back into it.

“Yeah well that’s sort of the point,” Zayn snips. “Liam James Payne, I swear! Open this door! Liam!”

“He might not even be home.”

“Preston, you can shove your logic up your arse.”

Preston snorts, arms folded across his chest when Zayn glances back. He looks less than impressed as he watches Zayn pound at Liam’s door. Zayn doesn’t much care about that either at the moment.

Turning back to the door, he hammers relentlessly on it. “Liam, if you don’t open this fucking door –”

The door swings open, and Liam’s gaping at him with wide, wounded eyes, and Zayn snaps his mouth closed so hard his teeth click. Before he can even think of something to say, Liam’s grabbing his wrist and yanking him inside.

“Li –” he’s cut off as he’s nearly slammed into Liam’s broad chest, his arms wrapping around Zayn in a tight embrace that throws Zayn completely off balance.

“I’m so sorry!” Liam exclaims, his face buried in Zayn’s shoulder. “Fuck, I’m so sorry! I had no idea she’d do that! I’m so, so sorry. If you hate me, I totally understand. I would too. I’m so sorry. I really –”

“Liam,” Zayn breathes, his own spinning thoughts falling still under the onslaught of Liam’s blind panic. One of Zayn’s hands comes up automatically to cup Liam’s neck, pressing them closer so he can comfort the other boy. Liam relaxes into it, fingers digging into Zayn’s back. “Christ, I’m not mad at you,” Zayn sounds far too amused for the current situation, but Liam’s being ridiculous. Of course Liam would assume that Zayn was mad at him. Of course. It’s just so – so _Liam._

“You’re not?” Liam questions, voice muffled in the fabric of Zayn’s t-shirt.

“Of course not.” Zayn’s not mad at _him_. His thoughts are still all over the place, and he has no fucking clue what happened, but he does know that. He’s never mad at Liam. “I’m a fair bit pissed at Danielle though.”

Liam flinches away from him, wide eyes skirting to the side. His hand comes up hesitantly, fingers just barely touching the tender skin of Zayn’s cheek. “Did she really hit you? I saw a video but...”

Zayn shrugs his hand away, uncomfortable with the intimate touch as he remembers exactly what Danielle accused him of. That coupled with what Louis said earlier... It’s ridiculous, he knows it is, but still. He pulls back and puts some distance between them.

Liam winces but steps back as well, like he understands that Zayn needs space right now, like he thinks that he shouldn’t touch Zayn. It sends a curious ache through Zayn’s body that he promptly ignores.

“What happened, Li?” Zayn asks, his confusion taking over. He barely notices as Preston steps inside and quietly closes the door. Zayn’s far too focused on Liam, whose entire face has fallen. _I broke up with him,_ that’s what Danielle had said, and Zayn hadn’t even thought about it. He’d just assumed that it was nonsense, like the rest of what she was saying, but now looking at Liam, he knows that it wasn’t. “Did you and Danielle really break up?”  
Liam chews on his lower lip, eyes falling towards their feet. Zayn notices nonsensically that Liam’s barefoot right now, toes curling against the floor. “Yeah,” he sighs out.

Zayn makes a hurt noise in the back of his throat, moving forward on instinct alone. “Fuck, Li, I’m so sorry.” He knew that Liam and Danielle weren’t exactly good, hadn’t been for a while, but he’d just assumed they’d make it through. Fuck, they’d been together for so long.

Liam’s lips pull up in the approximation of a smile. “It’s fine. I sort of knew it was coming after what happened when she came on tour.”

Zayn flinches, remembering screaming and Liam glaring at him, the harsh bite of glass on his fist and strained interactions on stage. “Fuck,” he repeats uselessly. “If this is because of what I said –”

Liam quickly shakes his head. “It wasn’t, not really. I asked her to come round when we got back, wanted to take a break, sort some things out. She uh, she didn’t take that well.”

“She accused me of fucking you.” They both wince at the blunt tone of Zayn’s voice, but there’s really no other way to put it.

“Yeah, I – she said that when I said that I wanted to take a break,” Liam admits, rubbing anxiously at the back of his neck. “She said it before too, after that show in Vegas just before break, but I told her it was rubbish. We’ve never – it’s never been like that between us. I mean, you’re not even into guys so...”

Zayn winces, just slightly in guilt. It’s somehow worse, knowing that he’s kept that from Liam. With Louis it was bad, but with Liam Zayn feels almost overwhelmed with guilt.

“Anyways,” Liam’s continuing, before Zayn can even attempt to correct him. “This time she wouldn’t listen to me. Accused us of running around behind her back and such. I tried to convince her that it wasn’t true but – I don’t even know. She just kept shouting, and I couldn’t get a word in so – I guess I kind of let her think that? Fuck, Zayn, I’m so sorry! If I knew that she was going to –”

“Hey, hey,” Zayn cuts Liam off with wide eyes, automatically reaching up to rub absently at Liam’s chin, a move they’ve done for ages. Liam relaxes immediately into it, lips twisting into a slight smile that Zayn makes himself return. “Li, I don’t blame you. I – it’s mad. I probably wouldn’t have known what to say either.”

Liam just nods, remaining close even after Zayn’s hand falls away. “I’m still sorry though. That video is everywhere, and I know that management can’t be happy with you right now. Or me, I guess. I haven’t looked at my phone since I first saw the video.”

Zayn snorts because that’s also typical Liam. “Don’t bother. Management told me to go home and not talk to anyone until they could sort this out.”

“So naturally you ignored them,” Liam genuinely smiles at that, his eyes laughing.

“Shut up,” Zayn returns. “Like you wouldn’t have done the same.”

“Of course,” Liam doesn’t even hesitate, and Zayn’s stomach tightens, just slightly. Danielle’s accusations are still fresh in his mind, and Louis’s teasing and it – he doesn’t even know, really. It just makes him feel a bit off, like the entire world has shifted underneath him, and suddenly he wants answers.

“Did she ever say why?” he finds himself asking hesitantly. “Danielle, did she ever say why she thought we were messing about behind her back?”

Liam shrugs. “Not really. She mentioned Vegas, but other than that she mostly just rambled, something about pictures and videos and stuff. I couldn’t figure it out.”

Zayn just shakes his head, heart thudding with something that tastes almost like guilt but that’s just nonsense. “Mad.”

Liam nods but doesn’t say anything.

Zayn takes the moment of silence to let himself look around, to let himself think about literally anything else because all this new information is just too much. Liam’s house opens around him in a welcome distraction. He’s always really liked Liam’s house, actually, not that he’s been here too often. It’s relatively new for Liam, and Danielle was always here, so Zayn’s only visited a few times. (And he’s resolutely not thinking about how that sounds right now). Taking in the sparsely furnished foyer, Zayn cocks his head when he hears the sound of the telly in the next room.

“Watching something?” he questions, glancing down at Liam’s frayed jeans and faded shirt, bare feet standing out against the wood floors. He wonders what Liam’s plans for today were, how it might have gone had he gotten his and Liam’s coffee and shown up unannounced. A day spent crammed on Liam’s couch, watching shit telly and making Liam entertain him, the idea is vastly appealing suddenly. Zayn wants to shed the weight of this mad situation, pretend it isn’t happening like how he handles most things honestly.

Liam grins impishly like he’s been caught out. “Might be watching the Nolan trilogy. It’s all I had planned for today, actually.”

Zayn laughs. “Right, lazy sod.”

“Like you have room to talk.”

Zayn almost tells him that he’d actually planned on coming to see Liam before running into Danielle, but decides not to at the last second. Everything still feels just the slightest bit off, like there are lines between them that didn’t exist before. Dismissing that, he clears his throat and tries for casual. “Well I was told to stay home, but since I’m here, I figure it’s best I hang around, yeah?”

“Typical, Malik,” Liam teases, eyes bright with relief and joy as his shoulders loosen just the smallest bit. “Inviting yourself over. You probably want me to make you lunch too.”

Zayn shrugs with practiced carelessness. “Wouldn’t turn food down.”

Liam scoffs but turns to lead the way to his living room and onto his kitchen. “‘Course not. Come on then. You can laze about on me couch while I find something to eat.”

It’s all too easy to kick off his shoes and follow Liam further into his house, and even though a small part of Zayn questions why that is – why invading Liam’s house feels like invading his own – Zayn ignores that. It’s all just ridiculousness anyways.

 

They’re cuddled together on the couch, and Zayn honestly has no idea how it happened. (Probably like it always does, a gradual inclination towards each other, arms wrapped around shoulders, legs thrown casually over laps, heads pillowed on shoulders until suddenly their limbs are entangled). All of the boys are like this with each other though, so used to being together in confined spaces that they automatically press against each other. He’s never thought twice about the fact that he does it just as often as the rest of them now (even though he was always far more withdrawn as a kid and it took him months to get used to touching other people so often), but he can’t help but think about it now.

Sprawled out on Liam’s couch with his head in Liam’s lap as Liam threads his fingers through Zayn’s hair, he knows that it’s certainly not something most lads do. He definitely never did this with Danny or Ant growing up, but it feels so natural with Liam. Pleasant and comforting in a way that Zayn had never really allowed himself before these four lads burst into his life and took it over.

Zayn’s never questioned it, and even now when a part of him says that maybe he should, he doesn’t. It feels too nice, letting Liam soothe him, and it might have taken a bit longer for him to relax into this position this time, but he’s content now, toeing the line between sleep and wakefulness with fluttering eyelids.

He’s perfectly content to spend the whole afternoon like this, until the doorbell rings.

Liam tenses immediately, fingers pausing where they’re curled at the very tip of Zayn’s hair. They both cut nervous glances over at Preston who made himself comfortable in the only armchair as soon as he realized that Zayn had no plans to go home.

Preston raises an unimpressed eyebrow at both of them, his phone disregarded in his lap. “Want me to get that then?” he asks rhetorically, fondly rolling his eyes like he knows that neither of them are going to move. Zayn watches him amble towards the front door, groaning a bit when Liam shifts underneath him. He can tell that Liam’s freaking out already, the calm that had enveloped them dissipated like morning dew, and he really just wants to crawl further into the couch and make Liam stay with him. It’s all just honestly not worth thinking about in Zayn’s opinion, so he resolutely refuses to move, like he can force the world to cooperate with what he wants through pure stubbornness.

Liam’s just paused the telly when Preston comes back in, posture much straighter, as Zayn’s assistant from Modest follows him.

Her eyes widen the smallest bit when she takes in their position and without hesitating she asks, “So it’s true then?”

They move as one, scrambling away from each other in a move that definitely screams guilt, but Zayn can’t help it. It’s like a natural instinct at this point, denying things so harshly because he knows, intimately, how quickly a rumor can take root. He glances at Liam only to see Liam staring steadfastly at the floor, his hands clasped in his lap and not even their thighs touching.

“No,” Liam mumbles, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “It’s really not. Danielle just –”

“So, just to clarify,” his assistant – Megan, Zayn thinks – cuts Liam off, and Zayn wants to snap at her but bites it back. “You two are not together? You did not cheat on Ms. Peazer?”

“No,” Zayn does snap this time, hating the way Liam flinches at the accusation. He presses his thigh to Liam’s in comfort, glaring at his staunch-faced assistant.  “She and Liam broke up, and she took it poorly obviously. It’s all nonsense.”

“Then why didn’t you deny it?”

“I did!”

“You didn’t really, actually.”

Zayn grits his teeth and tries valiantly to remind himself that this is her job; it’s difficult when her face is so smooth, like nothing about this is even touching her. “What did you want me to do? Slap her back?”

Megan – he’s becoming surer that it is in fact her name – sighs. “Of course not, but you have to acknowledge that your lack of reaction does not help matters. Have you seen the video?” At Zayn’s grudging shake of his head, her lips tighten. “You look guilty in it.”

“He doesn’t,” Liam defends, head snapping up.

“He does,” she fires back. “Zayn, you didn’t deny it. You just stood there, pale and wordless. She clearly believes her accusations, and you look guilty.”

“So, what?” Zayn demands, palms itching with anxiety. He doesn’t like the way this is going. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Everything,” she answers simply. “There have been rumors about the relationships between all members of this band for –”

“That’s just our fans,” Zayn rolls his eyes. “It’s never mattered before, except for Harry and Louis which is –”

 _Your fault,_ he intends to say, but Liam cuts him off with, “Different. Harry and Louis are a secret, but Zayn and I aren’t together, so why do the rumors suddenly matter?”

“Because they’ve gotten worse. Management has been suppressing most of them, but with this video, it looks bad. It looks true.”

“Worse?” Zayn echoes, confused. “What do you mean worse?”

“Coming off of the last tour, the spike in rumors about your sexualities has increased almost thirty four percent. Rumors about you and Mr. Payne have almost doubled in frequency.”

 _That’s... incredibly specific,_ is all Zayn can think for a moment. Followed quickly by, _Well, fuck._

Their sexualities are... varied, Zayn guesses is the best word. Liam’s bi, out and out about it since they were first put in a group, and Louis and Harry haven’t looked at anyone else since they found each other, so their sexualities are largely irrelevant. Niall frankly doesn’t care, so long as he likes the person and they don’t expect too much from him, and Zayn’s straight. _Well mostly,_ he thinks but he hasn’t actually told anyone besides Harry about that. But as varied as they are in their sexualities, they’re all uniform in one thing: they didn’t want to be out. Nobody was prepared to take the speculation and heat of being so young and out, so they let management closet them. It’s been – well, hard sometimes, but easier in other ways as well. Complicated, like most things involving fame and sexuality are.

No one has even broached the idea of coming out, not even Harry and Louis. Especially not Louis and Harry actually, who want the public to have no part in their relationship.

“Why didn’t anyone tell us?” Zayn finally asks.

“It was being handled, until this video came out. Now, the public is reacting as though it’s confirmed.”

“What’s confirmed?” Liam pushes, face losing color quickly.

“Your and Zayn’s relationship.”

“We don’t have –”

“Ziam is trending on twitter,” she cuts Zayn’s furious denial off. “Along with three other hashtags about you two. Tumblr is exploding with support, even two major news channels have picked up the story, one here and one in America. They’re all treating this as though the two of you are together. All of the speculation revolves around whether or not you cheated on Ms. Peazer. No one’s even asking whether or not you two are together. The public has, for the most part, accepted that as fact.”

 _Shit._ That’s bad. Zayn really doesn’t need to understand the workings of this industry to understand that. “So what does that mean?” There’s got to be a point to this, right? She came here for a reason, with a plan, instructions, something.

“It means that we’re going ahead with the story.”

“What?” Zayn really can’t tell which of them squeaks that out.

“If we deny everything, we come off as hiding something,” she explains patiently, and Zayn thinks kind of deliriously that her face hasn’t so much as twitched since she entered Liam’s house. _Like a robot._ “If you two specifically deny a relationship, you come off as homophobic. Either way, the public is unlikely to believe that you two aren’t together and have not cheated on Ms. Peazer. She’s already been put under a nondisclosure agreement since this morning, and the videos and photos removed, but that, of course, makes it look all the more suspicious. The damage is done.”

Zayn can’t even speak right now. He honestly never expected this. He thought management would come in with ideas for getting papped with other girls, maybe a set up between Zayn and some up and coming celebrity, or Liam even. Not this though.

“So,” Liam questions, voice slow and deliberate, “you aren’t going to deny anything?”

“No.”

“So what are you doing?”

“We request that you and Mr. Malik pursue a public relationship together, for the time being.”

 _Fake it._ That’s what they’re saying. Management wants him and Liam to fake it, and judging by the shock on Liam’s face, he can’t believe it either.

“You want us to pretend to date,” Zayn finds himself saying, like it’ll be any less insane in his own voice. It isn’t. “We never – None of us have pretended to date anyone. We all said –”

“That was a different time, Mr. Malik. This situation needs to be handled with the utmost care. You have a movie premiere in less than a month, and a hugely successful tour to finish out, not to mention the next tour that has already been put into the works. Any negative publicity at this time could kill your careers completely. Because of the largely positive reaction to the idea of the two of you together, Modest has come to the logical conclusion that your relationship would be beneficial at this time.”

It’s terribly clinical when she phrases it like that, and for half a second, Zayn finds himself agreeing with the logic of it all. It is logical, every single statement out of her mouth, but that’s it. Pure logic, nothing else to it, and they don’t live like that. They aren’t like that. _People_ aren’t like that. Zayn knows how this industry works, but they’d always swore they wouldn’t let it change them.

So he really doesn’t know why the next words out of his mouth are, “For how long?”

“What?” Liam rounds on him with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

“I –” Zayn stumbles under Liam’s shock, and his heart is racing. He’s agreeing to this, and he doesn’t really know why. He’s not even sure when he decided to agree to it. He just – it makes sense, and he just wants it to go away. Whatever it takes. But not unless Liam also agrees. “Look,” he sighs, scrubbing a hand over his hair. “She’s right. I didn’t really deny it because I was in shock, but I’m sure it looks bad. I mean, you watched the video, Li.”

“I –” Liam flushes inexplicably. “Okay, yeah, it does look bad, but we don’t have to –”

“I don’t mind,” Zayn cuts him off, flushing hotly at the open shock in Liam’s eyes. He doesn’t though, is the thing. Like, the idea of pretending to date Liam, now that it’s kind of sunk in, it doesn’t bother him. It almost makes sense, which is terrifying, but Zayn’s ignoring that. He tries to joke through it instead. “Are you saying you wouldn’t want to date me, Payne?”

Liam chokes. “I – no! I just – you’re straight!”

 _Not exactly,_ but Zayn definitely can’t drop that bomb right now. “The public apparently already doesn’t think so. If it’s easiest, and depending on what exactly management has in mind, I really wouldn’t mind.”

“Seriously?” Liam demands. “It wouldn’t bother you?”

“Would it bother you?” Slight hurt leaks into Zayn’s face, which he knows is just ridiculous but – Liam’s always told him he’s attractive, always joked with him about it, and they’re such good mates that Zayn just kind of assumed Liam wouldn’t have a problem with it. The idea that Liam doesn’t want to pretend to date him rubs Zayn the wrong way, and he’s very aware that it is incredibly ridiculous on all counts.

“Of course not,” Liam doesn’t even hesitate. “Pretending to date you would be easy, fun even, but like your family...”

Zayn bites his lip but shrugs. “I don’t think they’d mind all that much.” They won’t; Zayn’s already had this conversation with his parents, just before the X Factor, just after snogging some bloke he’s not seen since.

Liam just stares at him, like he has no idea what to say. To be fair, Zayn really doesn’t either.

“So you’re agreeing?” Megan jumps in, looking at them keenly.

“What exactly would we have to do?” Zayn makes himself look back at her. He’s willing to do this, he thinks, but only to a certain extent. “Like, what would we even do?”

“Hardly anything for now,” she answers quickly, like it’s already been all planned out. “You’ve still got another two, almost three, weeks before you have a scheduled public appearance at _This Is Us_. All interviews leading up to the premiere have already been cancelled, before this news even broke, because of Mr. Tomlinson and Mr. Styles’ insistence. If you agree to go forward, we would simply have you arrive, attend, and depart the movie premiere together.”

“Seriously?” That seems a bit anti-climactic to Zayn.

“Well, we would also ask that you two act like a couple while attending and if asked, confirm that you are together verbally, but that is the only ‘coming out’ so to speak that we would do. We don’t want to sensationalize this, just manage it.”

“And until then?” Liam asks, brow furrowed, and Zayn thinks that Liam’s always been the best at handling all of this.

“We would like the two of you to hide out,” she explains evenly. “Not here, or at Mr. Malik’s home, since both are being heavily watched now. Preferably at one of your parents’ homes.”

“But together?” Zayn clarifies, thinking about how he’d already been planning on visiting his family, not that coming home with a pretend boyfriend was what he had in mind.

“Yes,” she nods. “You’ll most likely be seen together, but we won’t release an official statement. We’ll allow it all to remain speculation until the premiere. Your presence in public will be limited, but will increase gradually as the date grows closer.”

Zayn’s head spins. Management really does have it all planned out. Liam also remains silent, like he can’t find something to complain about but still doesn’t want to blindly agree. Zayn understands the feeling. It’s all still insane.

“So are we in agreement?” Megan prods, glancing back and forth between them. “Other solutions could eventually be broached, but in the meantime the scandal would just grow. This solution is the preferable one.”

Zayn can read between the lines. Management can’t actually make them do anything, but their contracts are extraordinarily binding, and management has a way of doing nothing unless they agree to whatever management wants. Zayn’s sadly used to it, though he thinks this is probably the first time Liam’s being strong-armed into anything.

“I –” Liam looks at Zayn. “I agree.”

Zayn sucks in a deep breath. “I do too, but on one condition.”

“Yes?” Megan looks almost eager now, like she’s itching to return to London and report to her superiors. Hell, she’ll probably get a raise out of this.

“We never cheated.” At their blank looks, Zayn clarifies. “We make it extremely clear that we were never sneaking around behind Danielle’s back. We can tell them like, the feelings just grew until we couldn’t deny it or something, but we never cheated. Liam broke up with Danielle before we got together.”

Megan frowns. “That will be hard to sell.”

“I don’t care,” Zayn says firmly. He won’t move on this; Liam doesn’t deserve to be called a cheater. Zayn knows what that feels like, and he flatly refuses to let Liam experience it. “That’s what we’re saying. We realized our feelings over this last part of the tour, and when we got back, Liam broke up with Danielle.”

“That’s sort of true,” Liam admits. “I did break up with her like as soon as we got back.”

“Exactly,” Zayn nods. “So we just say that you told her it was because you wanted to be with me, and that she assumed something happened. We don’t admit to cheating. That’s not that outrageous.”

“Some people will still believe that you did,” Megan points out.

“I don’t care,” Zayn says again. It’s the principle of the thing for him.

“Fine,” Megan nods once, perfunctory. “If that is all, then consider this binding. As of this moment, the two of you are publicly dating.”

He and Liam glance at each other, uncertain. “Sure,” Zayn says finally, shrugging and forcing a small smile. “Won’t be that hard, right Leeyum?”

The familiar nickname makes Liam laugh. “‘Course not,” he wraps an arm around Zayn and cuddles him closer. “It’ll be easy, pretending to date a gorgeous bloke like you.”

Zayn snorts, but lets Liam cuddle him.

Megan clears her throat, eyeing them oddly. “Right. Well then, we’d like for you to stay the night here Zayn and be papped tomorrow morning, leaving. Then, one of you should arrange to visit your family within the next couple of days. Once that’s done, call management so we can work out a firmer timeline.”

Zayn shrugs, something tight in his gut that he decides to ignore. “Sure, whatever. Not like I’ve never stayed here before.”

“Right,” Megan repeats again, that same look on her face. “That’s all then. Goodnight gentlemen.”

Zayn watches bemusedly as Preston escorts her out, wondering what the hell she could possibly be thinking right now. He wonders if she thought they’d agree to this or fight her on it, if they managed to surprise her.

“So,” Liam drawls out, snagging Zayn’s attention again. Zayn looks at him only to see a mischievous grin pulling at Liam’s lips, brown eyes dancing with humor. “What are we going to do now... boyfriend?”

Zayn barks out a surprised laugh, the word bouncing oddly around his head. “Christ, that’s weird.”

Liam pouts at him, retracting his arm. “Rude. It’s like you don’t even want to pretend to date me, Z.”

“Hey, no,” Zayn laughs out, playing along as he shuffles closer to Liam. “If I had to pretend to date anyone, it’d be you.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “Thanks, and after I called you gorgeous and everything.”

“Leeyum,” Zayn drawls, pouting at him. “Come on. I actually kind of meant that.”

The playful edge drops from Liam’s face replaced by surprise. “Really? You’d pick me?”

“Of course.” It’s not anything but the truth, even though Zayn’s never thought about pretending to date anyone. He would choose Liam though; everything’s just so easy with Liam, and Zayn feels incredibly comfortable with him. “Right next to you, right Leeyum?”

“Shut up,” Liam mocks him fondly but can’t quite hide his pleased blush. “Come on, then. I did promise you lunch.”

 

The rest of the day passes fairly normally. Liam does make them lunch and offers to make Preston something too, but the security man begs off and leaves with a promise to return for Zayn the next morning. After lunch they move back onto the couch and shove at each other until they’re comfortable enough to settle in to watch the end of _The Dark Knight_ , only leaving when they order take out for dinner.

Once the end credits roll for _The Dark Knight Rises,_ Zayn has to stifle a yawn to the back of his hand, blinking sleepily at the dark living room.

“Tired?” Liam asks, rubbing at his own eyes from where he’s leaning heavily against Zayn’s chest.

Zayn just hums in response. He can’t be bothered to form actual words right now; the day’s events and his depressing lack of coffee have clearly caught up with him. Liam giggles, shoving off of Zayn and flipping the telly off.

“Up you get then,” he gestures at Zayn.

With a deep sigh, Zayn heaves himself off of the couch and follows silently behind Liam. He’s acting largely on autopilot, which is probably why he doesn’t realize where they’re going until they’re already there. He actually probably still wouldn’t have noticed anything, but Liam stops and stares at him when they enter his room, eyes suddenly uncertain.

“Li?” Zayn questions, cocking a curious eyebrow.

“I, um, you just normally sleep in here,” Liam stutters, frowning at the single bed, and right, Zayn realizes. They’re in Liam’s room because he normally just sleeps in Liam’s bed with him when he stays over. “Is that – did you want – I have a guest room.”

For half a second, Zayn considers agreeing, skin prickling with how awkward this situation is, but then he shoves that thought away. It’d only make it worse, and half the reason he even agreed to this insanity is because he’s so comfortable with Liam. There’s no reason for it to be weird now, not after three years of sharing beds.

“Shut it,” he knocks his shoulder against Liam’s as he passes him and heads for the bed. “We’re dating now. Would be weird to sleep in another room.”

Liam chuckles, and Zayn diplomatically pretends he doesn’t notice the slight edge to it. He simply watches Liam head over to his dresser to grab some clothes to sleep in, convincing himself that this is just like any other night, because it is. Or well, it should be.

(It’s slightly unnerving that Zayn feels a bit weird about this too, almost like he’s nervous, which makes no sense. Fuck, Liam’s seen him in practically every state, including that one time when he was desperately ill with the flu. This is nothing).

Liam throws another pair of joggers at him and a stretched out shirt to sleep in, and Zayn smirks when he sees that it’s a Green Lantern one. “Nerd,” he mocks as he strips his own clothes off. Liam rolls his eyes and strips off his own clothes.

Zayn finds his eyes skittering away, and he climbs into Liam’s bed to distract himself. Tugging the covers up to his chin, he shuffles around until he feels comfortable. Liam stumbles over to the light switch and flips it off before stumbling back towards the bed. Zayn can’t see him, but he hears him when Liam knocks into something and mutters a curse, snickering to himself.

“Shut it, you knob,” Liam snaps without heat. The bed shifts when he climbs in, but it’s too dark for Zayn to figure out how far away he is. Not that it matters, he reminds himself. Liam’s bed is huge, so it definitely doesn’t matter at all.

“Night, Li,” he sighs out, letting exhaustion crowd his brain. He definitely wants to stop thinking and sleep has always been his favorite escape.

“Night,” Liam mumbles back, shifting again like he’s trying to get comfortable.

Zayn’s just falling asleep when he thinks he feels an arm settle timidly around his waist, but he’s too tired to investigate. Sleep takes him as the familiar scent of rain wraps around him.

 

“Zayn.”

Zayn mumbles and turns over to bury his face in his pillow. Except it doesn’t smell like his pillow; it smells like Liam.

Liam, whose voice comes again, “Zayn, seriously, get up.”

A moan forces its way out of Zayn’s throat, and it’s just this side of sexual, not that Zayn really cares right now. He knows where he is and why, but he doesn’t understand why Liam thinks that means Zayn needs to get up.

“Get up, man,” Liam repeats, and this time Zayn feels him tugging lightly at the sheets as well. “It’s like nearly eleven, pretty sure that girl said you had to leave this morning.”

“Don’t care,” Zayn throws out, refusing to even open his eyes. Liam’s bed is comfortable and warm, and Zayn can’t see any reason to leave it at all today. He has no plans, and he’s supposed to be pretending to be Liam’s boyfriend anyways. (He’s fairly certain that’s just in public though, but he really doesn’t care at this moment).

“You will when they make you get papped some other time.”

That does the trick, and Zayn lets his eyes open just a sliver. He can barely make out the blurred outline of Liam standing just to his side. “You’re the worst,” he grumbles half-heartedly.

Liam scoffs. “I’m not. I even made you breakfast.”

Zayn perks up slightly. “Coffee.”

“Yes, your highness.” Zayn can’t see Liam well enough yet to know for sure, but he thinks that Liam just rolled his eyes. “Now, seriously, get up. I’m not dealing with management because you couldn’t get out of bed in time for a simple picture. Preston’s already waiting and everything.”

Tugging the sheet completely away this time, Liam turns and leaves. Zayn gasps at the rush of cold air and chucks a pillow after Liam, who dodges with an easy laugh. “Monster,” Zayn croaks out.

“There’s a toothbrush in the bathroom for you,” Liam pointedly ignores him. “You can shower too, but only if it’s quick. Come eat and then get your arse out of my house.”

Zayn feigns a wounded noise. “Worst pretend boyfriend ever.”

“Best you mean,” Liam calls over his shoulder as he walks down the hall and out of Zayn’s sight. “But I will be the worst and come dump water on you if you don’t get up.”

Zayn shudders at just the thought. He knows that Liam would never actually do it – has never done it even after three years of waking Zayn up – but it still motivates him enough to finally get up. He stumbles his way to the bathroom, promising himself three cups of coffee regardless of the timeline he’s supposedly on.

 

When he makes it downstairs like ten minutes later, Liam’s humming to himself near the stove. He looks up and grins when he spots Zayn, standing just at the edge of the kitchen and rubbing a knuckle tiredly into his eye. Zayn’s not sure precisely what he looks like this morning – though the quick glance in the mirror as he brushed his teeth promised messy hair and stubble – but he knows there’s no way he looks as wonderful as Liam does.

Liam glows in the morning sunlight, skin cast a golden hue in his bright kitchen. He’s shirtless, wearing a pair of pajama pants that fit loose around his narrow hips. His hair is fairly messy but short enough that it hardly matters, and the speckling of hair around his jaw is barely noticeable until it catches the light. Everything about him is warmth and sunshine and gold, and Zayn absolutely hates him for it.

“You look amazing,” he grumbles. “I hate you.”

Liam’s eyes widen slightly, and he flushes, like Zayn’s never complimented him before. (Which Zayn definitely has, just probably not in the morning when his brain-to-mouth filter is non-existent). “Hypocrite,” Liam shoots back, turning towards the stove for another second. “You always look amazing.”

“Pretty sure I look dead right now, mate,” Zayn mutters as he nearly throws himself into the barstool at the breakfast counter. “Zombie-like.”

“But you’d make a pretty zombie, babe,” Liam teases as he turns back towards Zayn and moves forward. Zayn ignores him, largely because of the plate of food in his hands and, more importantly, the cup of coffee.

Liam sets the plate down, and Zayn makes grabby hands at the mug. With a laugh, Liam hands it over. Zayn sighs after he gulps down the hot liquid. Liam and Louis both drink tea, but Zayn and Niall can barely function without coffee in the morning, and as a result, all of the lads keep some on hand. Zayn’s never been more grateful as he basically inhales the first cup.

“Eat,” Liam nods towards the plate as he pries the mug from Zayn’s hands. Zayn releases it when he realizes that Liam means to fill it up again. Turning his attention toward the plate, he feels his eyes widen.

Liam’s made a proper English breakfast, eggs and all. “Christ,” Zayn mutters. “What time did you even get up?”

“Went for my run at the normal time.”

“Some unholy hour then.” Liam’s actually awful in the morning, even less coherent than Zayn, but if he forces himself into a run and then a shower, he’s fine. Zayn doesn’t understand it at all.

Liam just shakes his head, refusing to comment. “Eat, Zayn.”

Zayn does, smiling through a mouthful of food when Liam sets the mug beside him again. Liam returns his smile and pats his shoulder before walking around the kitchen, tidying up. Watching him, Zayn finishes his food, surprisingly hungry for it still being the morning. He feels much more awake than normal too, which he’s going to solidly blame Liam for. Bloody morning person these days with his routine. Zayn can’t even remember the last time he’d actually seen Liam asleep.

Which – “Did you sleep well?” he finds himself asking.

Liam shrugs, tossing a pan into the sink to clean later. “Fine. I’m still a bit messed up from touring, but I think I got like seven hours last night? That’s probably the most since we got back.”

Zayn frowns. “Is it – it’s not because of Danielle right?”

Liam blinks at him in surprise. “What? No, of course not. She hardly slept over here anymore anyways.”

“Oh,” Zayn’s eyes widen. “Was it really that bad?”

“Not really.” When Zayn just looks at him, Liam shrugs again, looking away. “Yeah, I guess,” he admits. “She hasn’t really been happy about the tour, thought I was gone too much or something. We’ve been fighting a lot.”

“I knew, like before Vegas,” Zayn starts, almost biting his tongue because they don’t really talk about Vegas that much.

“Right,” Liam just nods. “That wasn’t exactly the first time, and after, well it just got worse. I knew before I even came back that I was going to break it off, at least for a bit. It was – it just didn’t feel good anymore. Didn’t make me happy.”

“Oh, Li,” Zayn sighs out, feeling awful. He had no idea Liam and Danielle were this bad. He doesn’t think any of the lads knew. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Liam just shakes his head. “Kind of talked to Niall about it. Would have talked to Louis, but well he and Harry have been really focused on them lately, and I didn’t want to take away from that. And you... Well, you know.”

“And I was dealing with Perrie.” Liam looks surprised by the blunt statement, but Zayn curiously doesn’t even hesitate over her name. He’d felt good yesterday, had been feeling steadily better for a while now, but today, he hardly feels anything about it at all. It just – it is what it is, and Liam’s break up is much more recent. “You could have told me,” he says eventually.

“No, I know,” Liam’s still watching him curiously. “But like, your break up was a lot worse, I guess. Like, I don’t know. Danielle and I have been falling apart for ages. You and Perrie were... sudden.”

 _That’s certainly one word for it._ Sudden and unexpected, because Zayn definitely hadn’t expected it. He’d actually – but well, that’s pointless to think about now. Perrie had dumped him, and he’d been getting over it. It was – well it’s fine, now.

“Have you,” Liam hesitates slightly, biting his bottom lip. “Have you talked to her?”

“Not since the breakup.” She hadn’t even gotten her stuff from their place; Jesy had shown up instead with a sad smile and apologetic eyes. Zayn had always liked Jesy actually, so it had hurt a bit that Perrie had sent her. “She hasn’t called, and I – well I don’t really know what to say.”

“I’m sorry,” and Liam looks like he means it, which of course he does. Liam always looks like he feels your pain personally. It’s one of Zayn’s favorite things about him. “You don’t think – is this going to make that worse?”

“This?”

“You and me,” Liam clarifies. “Like, if we go through with this dating thing, is that going to affect you guys? I know you were hoping...”

 _Hoping to get back together._ Zayn actually thinks about it for a moment. He hadn’t explicitly been hoping to get back together with Perrie, but well, the thought had been there. It was distant though, far off after the tour ended. He hadn’t even thought about the fact that Perrie would hear he was dating Liam. For a second, he lets himself wonder what her reaction would be – shock, probably, disbelief, jealousy maybe, but –

No, it isn’t really worth thinking about.

“I doubt it’ll change much,” he says instead. “Besides, we still have to finish our tour, and who even knows how long they’ll want us to keep this up.”

“Right,” Liam nods, brushing it off, but Zayn sees something buried in his eyes, like he’s not saying something. Zayn thinks about asking, but he doesn’t want to pressure Liam into anything.

“And you and Danielle?” he finds himself asking instead. He hadn’t even really thought about it, the night before, but what Liam just said for him and Perrie also applies to Liam and Danielle.

“Oh, no,” Liam shakes his head. “I doubt she’ll ever take me back, and even if she wanted to get back together, I don’t. Not after what she did yesterday.”

It sends an odd thrill through Zayn, that Liam’s not even thinking about getting back together with Danielle. (He tells himself it has everything to do with how he hasn’t ever really liked Danielle and nothing to do with Liam choosing him over Danielle because that’s – odd. It’s weird, and so not what’s actually happening).

“Good,” he mutters instead, finishing his second mug of coffee. Liam smiles at him easily, and Zayn grins back over the rim.

           

Liam walks him to the door, and it’s only then that Zayn realizes he’s still wearing Liam’s things.

“Oh,” he hesitates. “I’m still wearing your clothes. Should I - ?”

“Nah,” Liam says quickly, looking him up and down. “I mean, we are supposed to be adding to the speculation, yeah? Besides, I like you in my clothes.”

“Possessive, Payne,” Zayn snickers, a bit surprised by Liam’s cheek. “If I’d known this is what you were going to be like, I’d never have agreed.”

“Sure, babe,” Liam smirks at him. “You keep telling yourself that.”

“Idiot,” Zayn hugs him to disguise the fond look he’s sure is on his face right now. He hadn’t really realized before, but it’s been a while since he and Liam have been like this, just chilling together and joking around. He’s missed it.

Liam hugs him back, and then opens the door for him. He leans in the frame as Zayn leaves. “Text me when you get home, yeah?”

“Worried about me?” Zayn teases.

“Always,” and Liam looks sincere as he says it, even with a smile still pulling at his lips.

So Zayn agrees. “I will. Bye Liam. See you in a bit.”

Preston appears out of nowhere to guide Zayn to the car, and Zayn jumps a bit, startled into looking away from Liam. Preston smirks down at him, and Zayn narrows his eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Preston shrugs. “Just get in the car, Malik.”

“What about the paps?” Zayn asks, letting Preston move ahead of him to open the door. “Thought they were supposed to be here.”

“Don’t worry. They’ll get their picture.”

Zayn glances back over his shoulder. Liam’s still standing in the doorway, and he waves when he sees Zayn glance back. Zayn returns the wave with a small grin. “Yeah,” he agrees as he climbs into the waiting car. “I guess they will.”

 

The paps do get their photo and it’s –

Zayn knows he and Liam aren’t really together. Obviously, he _knows_ but – it’s very believable, is the thing.

Zayn ignores literally every notification on his phone to stare at the incriminating photo.

The picture is simple, ridiculously so, and that’s what really hits Zayn. In it, he’s looking back over his shoulder, fond smile on his face, and Liam’s standing in the doorway, waving with a sheepish smile tugging at his lips playfully. Preston’s hand is on Zayn’s shoulder, like he has to physically pull Zayn away, and Zayn’s obviously dressed in Liam’s clothes, just slightly too big on his narrower frame. It looks posed, and it’s freaking Zayn out a bit that it isn’t.

It’s just him and Liam, but Zayn suddenly has a new context to look at it in and –

It’s believable, especially with the headline, ‘Boybanders in Love?’

His first instinct is to call Liam; he calls Harry.

“You’ve been holding out on me.”

Zayn groans, burying his head in his arms where he’s sat at his kitchen table. “Shut it, Haz.”

“No, honestly. Here I was thinking that you’d only kissed one boy, never really had a chance to figure out your sexuality, and you’ve actually been shagging our bandmate. I’m hurt.”

“You’re not funny,” Zayn deadpans, quietly hating himself for getting absolutely pissed one night and blurting out his sexual identity crisis to Harry (but also insanely thankful that it was only Harry). “Seriously. Louis’s clearly gotten to you, because you’re about as funny as he is.”

“Lou’s hilarious.”

“He’s really not, and neither are you.”

Harry snorts, but he does drop his fake indignant tone. “Fine, but I am a bit hurt that it took you this long to call me. Liam called Louis like an hour ago, and they’ve conferenced Niall in.”

“Liam’s talking to both of them?”

“You know Liam; he needs the support. He’s not as stoic as you are Zayn, only trusting your troubles to one person, like one beam is enough to support a house.”

“Tone it down, Aristotle,” Zayn rubs at his forehead where he can just feel a headache growing. He’s fine with Harry’s philosophical bullshit usually, but not at the moment.

“Wow, you really don’t have patience for anything today. That bad, huh?”

“Have you seen the picture? The one from –”

“In front of Liam’s house? Oh definitely. It’s everywhere, which I’m sure was management’s intention since it’s pretty much eclipsed that lovely video of Danielle slapping you. How’s your face by the way?”

Harry’s tone is casual but knowing him, he’s actually worried, so Zayn gives him a genuine answer. “Cheek’s a bit sore, not that I’m going to tell Liam that. He feels awful.”

Harry hums thoughtfully.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just I never noticed how often you bring Liam up.”

“Hazza –”

“Sorry.” Zayn can practically hear the shrug in Harry’s voice. “It’s just – I know you two aren’t really together, obviously. So I’m assuming that this is management’s doing, which means that you agreed to it. That all makes sense. What I can’t figure out though, is _why_ you would agree to this.”

“I have no idea,” Zayn admits, stomach clenching almost painfully. Now that he’s had time away, had time to think, he doesn’t have a reason. He didn’t even think it through really. He just... decided. “It just seemed easier. Plus, management pitched it like it was a choice, but it wasn’t really.”

“Of course they did.” The bitterness in Harry’s tone reminds Zayn that there’s no love lost there. (And it’s kind of funny to him that Harry is the one who turned out to be the biggest rebel, frequently telling management to go fuck themselves, literally). “But, Zayn, I was kind of serious before.”

“Serious about what?” Zayn’s thrown by Harry’s tone, cautious but caring, which pretty much describes everything about Harry.

“Serious about you always bringing Liam up, and now, y’know with the pretending to date thing, just – is this you trying to figure out your sexuality still?”

The genuine question throws Zayn completely off center. “What, Haz, no –”

“Are you sure though?” Harry wonders, voice quiet and infinitely serious. “I know you haven’t told anyone else about that boy from your hometown, but like, you had a thing for Liam during X Factor.”

“It was just a crush,” Zayn blushes. “Besides that was ages ago Harry. C’mon.”

“I’m just saying,” Harry’s endlessly patient. “If you’re interested you should definitely tell Liam now, so he knows, even if you’re just trying to figure out –”

“I’m not,” Zayn forces out. “I – Look, I know that I like guys, okay? Even if – I just know, but this isn’t about that. He’s Liam, yeah? My best mate. It’s definitely just pretending.” Zayn pointedly ignores the higher pitch of his voice and simultaneously curses Harry silently.

“Okay, sure,” Harry agrees easily, letting it drop just like that. “So you don’t think it will be weird then? I imagine it’d be a bit like me kissing Niall.”

“Gross,” Zayn’s nose wrinkles at that unnecessary image. “That is completely different. Liam and I aren’t like you and Niall. I think... it’s gonna be weird, obviously, but I think it’ll be okay.”

“You’ll have to tell me if Liam’s a good kisser.”

“Haz!”

“What?” Harry pouts. “He’s got those lips, Zayn; you can’t tell me you never wondered.”

Of course he has. Liam’s lips are ridiculous and Zayn’s interest in lads never really went away. Even now it’s easy to imagine Liam’s lips, plump and pouting, shiny because they all bite at their lips when they think, and Zayn bets that Liam’s lips would turn a beautiful shade of red if he – _No._ “That is not the point,” Zayn nearly snaps, dragging his mind harshly away from that train of thought. “What would Louis say if he knew?”

“He’d probably want to watch you two actually, which I honestly wouldn’t mind because –”

“Okay, no,” Zayn says flatly. “Conversation’s over.”

Harry laughs. “You sure, Zayn? Don’t have anything else you want to talk about? We could –”

“Nope, I’m fine. Tell Louis not to traumatize Liam. Actually, y’know tell Niall that too.”

“Will do,” Harry relents, going with the flow of the conversation as he always does. “But what are you two supposed to do now? Just out of curiosity. I don’t want to wake up tomorrow to find out you’re pregnant.”

Zayn sighs and forces himself to ignore that second part. “Nothing yet. We’re meant to go to one of our parents’ houses and like hide out until the premiere. That’s when we’re making the big announcement or whatever. Liam and I haven’t figured out any of the details yet, but we’re supposed to let management know in the next few days.”

“Well, good luck with all that.”

Zayn scoffs. “Thanks, Harry. I can really feel the sympathy.”

“Shut up,” Harry laughs. “I’d tell you in a second if I was worried about this and you know it.”

“Yeah,” Zayn smiles into his phone gratefully. “I know. Thanks man.”

“Anytime,” Harry brushes his gratitude off like it isn’t necessary. “Now I’m going to go eavesdrop on the others. Got to keep on top of everything. Call me if anything else insane happens.”

“Sure. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Zayn stares at absolutely nothing after he hangs up, thoughts unable to settle on just one train of thought, until he feels his phone go off where it’s still clutched in his hand. His eyes widen when he sees just how many notifications he has. Clicking open his messages, he isn’t honestly surprised to see that literally everyone who knows him has sent him basically the same ‘wtf’ message. He’d do the same, in their place. He pays slightly more attention to the missed phone calls, one from Doniya, two from his mum, and one from Ant – which is essentially Danny too.

With a sigh, Zayn thumbs open his messages, completely ignoring his twitter notifications. There’s no way he’s wading into that mess right now.

He texts Ant and Danny that he owes them a pint and an explanation, not at all surprised when they just send him simple agreements back. Doniya he texts a quick, ‘It’s not real. I’ll explain when I can.’ His mum is definitely going to be harder to handle though, so he settles for a longer version of the text he just sent Doniya, with like barely any more information and prays that it’ll suffice for now.

With that done, Zayn sets his phone back down. He can’t handle anyone else, especially because he knows that he can’t tell them all the truth. Hell, he’s not sure he can even tell Danny and Ant the truth; he probably shouldn’t. His family is a given though; he never lies to them.

When his phone goes off again, he contemplates just turning it off without even looking, but with a sigh he glances at the screen.

Everything stops for a moment, the harsh ringing scratching against Zayn’s eardrums.

He hasn’t seen the contact in months and now –

His phone is still ringing because she’s calling him. Perrie’s calling him, and he hasn’t heard from her in four months. They haven’t spoken since the breakup, and she’s calling him right now. He just watches the phone in something like horror layered with confusion.

The idea of answering doesn’t even register until it stops buzzing, but then he’s glad that he didn’t. So glad, because he has no idea what he would even say. Clearly she’s seen the headlines, heard the buzz, and he knew that she would. Shit, he’d just said as much to Liam, but he’d honestly never thought she’d actually call him about it. That just –

It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense honestly.

So he ignores it.

He can’t handle her right now on top of everything else, so he calmly places his phone on the kitchen counter and walks away, mind oddly blank and a muffled hurt thumping in his chest like an old bruise.

Zayn wants a shower and then a nap, and then possibly take out and wine.

Definitely wine actually.

 

When he next dares to glance at his phone – literally hours and hours later when the sky is turning dark and he’s already had two glasses of wine and he feels marginally more in control of his life – a text from Liam catches his attention immediately.

_What r we gonna do???_

It makes him smile because yeah, that’s just so Liam. If he didn’t know Liam as well as he does, he’d honestly have no idea what the message was referring to, but he does know Liam. He knows that Liam’s always focusing on the future, that once Liam makes a decision, he sticks to it. Liam’s always been like that, a fix-it kind of guy that handles everything in a step-by-step process that Zayn sometimes envies. So Liam’s thinking about the decisions he and Zayn are supposed to be making, about the things they need to tell management about.

So he thumbs back, _Think you could sneak over tomorrow?_

Zayn doesn’t want to hash this all out over the phone. Besides Liam always calms him down, and Zayn desperately needs calm right now.

_Be ovr @ 11_

The answer makes Zayn smile because it’s so _Liam,_ ridiculous in its simplicity because Liam has this way about him that makes even the difficult stuff feel small. Liam is simple and calm and – everything Zayn needs right now, honestly.

           

“So I think we should go to your parents,” Liam states as he stacks their empty plates in the sink. He’s dressed in a simple shirt and jeans, bright-eyed even though he’d shown up at ten instead of eleven with a hesitant smile and more take out, of the breakfast variety this time though.

Zayn’s taken aback a bit by the rapid change in discussion, almost preferring their conversation about how much take out Zayn’s eaten in the past week. He gamely follows Liam’s lead though, a default he thinks he’s probably going to rely on for the duration of this stunt. “Don’t you want to see your mum?” he asks.

Liam shrugs. “Of course, but she spent some time on the tour with us. You haven’t seen your sisters in ages.”

Gratitude overwhelms Zayn. (Because he does miss his sisters, like an ache in his veins, but he can never fully explain that, and now Liam’s just offering this up like he gets it automatically, like he knows how Zayn feels). “You’re amazing, y’know that?”

“Shut up.”

“I mean it,” Zayn defends because he does. Liam knows how much Zayn always misses his family, and Zayn’s so grateful that Liam’s willing to sacrifice his own wishes for that. “Seriously, I owe you.”  
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Liam’s smile is pure childishness, like he’s gotten away with something as he leans against the kitchen counter. Zayn quirks an eyebrow, and Liam flushes slightly. “I kind of haven’t talked to my mum yet and –”

“Liam!”

“I know,” Liam winces. “But I didn’t know what to say! Besides, she loves you, so I figured if you were here when I tell her that it’s all fake and that I’m not coming...” He trails off, but Zayn gets it. It’s honestly kind of brilliant.

Zayn huffs out a laugh. “Sneaky, Payne, bribing me beforehand.”

“You can say no.”

“No I can’t.” Zayn dares anyone to ever say no to Liam.

Liam doesn’t bother arguing that. He merely digs in his pocket for his phone and dials. Zayn moves closer to listen, leaning against the counter with Liam as Karen picks up.

“Liam James Payne!” Zayn smirks at Liam’s flush, and Liam shoots him a glare as Karen continues, “I cannot believe you didn’t return my calls yesterday!”

“Sorry, mum, I was just –”

“And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Karen continues, nearly gushing. “How could you not tell me you were dating Zayn?”

Zayn’s eyes widen at the joy in her voice, and Liam’s expression looks much the same. Karen sounds ecstatic, not even questioning the rumors, and Zayn really didn’t expect that. Even though Liam’s parents know about his sexuality, Zayn definitely still expected Karen to at least ask what the rumors were about, to laugh it off when they explained. He did not expect this happy belief bubbling in her voice, and clearly, neither did Liam.

“Mum, I –” Liam tries desperately.

“I mean it, Liam Payne,” Karen rushes on, hardly listening. “I told you when you were thirteen that I didn’t care who you loved as long as you were happy, and I meant it. It doesn’t matter if it happens to be a boy, and Zayn on top of that! Like you could ever doubt that I’d be thrilled!”

“Thrilled?” Liam squeaks, and oh fuck. They really should have seen this coming. Zayn’s frozen, watching Liam try not to freak out at his mum’s obvious delight.

“Of course! He’s my favorite, you know. Such a lovely boy, and the way he looks at you! Well, I can’t think of anyone better for my son,” Karen babbles. “So when are you two coming up? Zayn is coming with you, right? He has to come! I won’t take no for an answer, not from him –”

“Mum –” Liam’s panicking, his voice tight and high, and Zayn completely gets it. Karen sounds happy, overjoyed at the idea of Zayn dating Liam and coming up to see her. Zayn can picture her so easily too, probably moving about the kitchen because it’s her favorite place in their home, phone pressed to her ear as she grins. She’s probably already got the house clean for them, Liam’s sheets changed, maybe one of the girls’ old rooms cleared out for Zayn to stay in and –

Zayn grabs Liam’s phone from him before Liam can say another word, a tight pinch in his gut that he promptly ignores. “Hi Karen,” he blurts out quickly, matching Liam’s wide-eyed expression because fuck if he knows what he’s doing either. Liam slumps back against the counter though, some of the tension leaving his shoulders, so Zayn thinks he at least partially succeeded in whatever he’s attempting.

“Zayn!” Karen trills. “I didn’t know you were there! Can’t say I’m surprised of course. You and Liam have always been attached at the hip, and I imagine that’s even worse now that you two are dating. Oh, and that’s lovely.”

She sounds close to tears, and Zayn can’t tell her. She’s _happy_ about this, ecstatic even, and her happiness shines like Liam’s does, and Zayn always wants Liam happy, so he can’t take Karen’s happiness away either. He just can’t, and he can’t let Liam do it. Liam would too; he’s obviously willing to stand here and take his mother’s disappointment even though Zayn knows that Liam’s worst fear is disappointing anyone. He doesn’t want Liam to have to disappoint his mum, and he doesn’t want to take away her happiness.

So he lies. The decision is made in an instant, and he doesn’t even think he’s going to regret it really.

“It is,” he agrees easily, completely ignoring the way Liam’s eyes widen. He places his fingers over Liam’s lips to keep him from blurting anything out when Liam opens his mouth. “I heard what you said, and thank you. It means a lot.”

“Of course! You’ve always been good for Liam, just what he needs. He was so alone as a child, you know, and you make him smile.”

Zayn’s heart aches a bit at the thought of Liam alone and young, but he struggles to maintain his conversation, determinedly avoiding Liam’s eyes. “He makes me smile, too. I think he’s better for me than I am for him, honestly.”

“Nonsense,” Karen laughs. “So you are coming up with him then? I know this is your only break for a while but –”

“Yes,” Zayn cuts her off, agreeing blindly once again. “I – yeah I’ll come up with him. Is it – Liam said he wasn’t planning on heading up for a few more days though. Is that still alright?”

“Perfect,” Karen agrees happily. “We’ll see you Sunday then? Geoff is terribly excited too, not that he’ll admit it.”

Zayn forces a laugh, heart pounding. “Thank you, Karen, really. It’s been kind of crazy, and it’ll be nice to hide out for a bit.”

“You two can stay as long as you like,” Karen assures, voice just a bit protective. “Liam said he had to be back three days before the premiere, but you can stay longer if you’d like.”

“Oh, no. We have to come back then, but we’ll stay until the last minute,” Zayn promises. He’s determinedly not looking at Liam still. “I’ll see you in a few days then?”

“Oh, I’m so excited to see you two,” and Karen sounds it. “Have a good day! Take care of my little boy!”

“I will,” Zayn chokes out.

“Love you both!”

“You too.”

When the line clicks off, Zayn just stares at Liam’s phone, wondering what the hell just happened.

“What the hell just happened?” Liam echoes his thoughts.

Zayn glances up at Liam. “I – uh, sorry?”

“Did you just promise my mum we’d go see her? As boyfriends?”

“Sorry?” Zayn tries again, uncertain now. He’d kind of just acted on impulse, not wanting to disappoint Karen, but now he’s wondering if that was a good idea. Maybe Liam doesn’t want to lie to his mum. He’d hesitated, like he hadn’t wanted to tell her the truth either, so Zayn thought –

“What about your family?” Liam demands, looking astonished. “I thought you wanted to see your sisters?”

Zayn slumps, relieved that Liam’s not pissed about the like fifteen lies Zayn just told his mum. “I do. I just couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing your mum! She sounded so happy, Li, and I couldn’t ruin that.”

A large smile slowly overtakes Liam’s face, and Zayn feels the knot in his stomach loosen. “Malik, you sap.”

Zayn smacks playfully at his chest. “Shut up. You didn’t want to tell her the truth either.”

“Of course not,” Liam agrees easily. “I hate disappointing me mum. But still, your family, your sisters –”

Zayn shakes his head, thoughts already spinning ahead with this change in plans. At this point, he’s kind of just going with whatever happens, having forfeited control the moment he walked into that coffee shop, it seems. He’s surprisingly alright with that thought. “No it’s alright. They already know that this isn’t real, my parents too.”

Liam looks the smallest bit guilty. “We can tell mine the truth, too. I swear I’ll handle my mum, Zayn. You don’t need to –”

“Are you joking?” Zayn demands, aghast. “You can’t tell Karen! She’ll be gutted! No, absolutely not. As far as she knows, we’re together.” He means it too; Zayn’ll be damned if he crushes Karen’s feelings with the truth.

Liam looks like he wants to laugh again. “Okay, fine so, what about seeing your family though? I’m glad they know the truth, but I feel bad that you won’t get to see them.”

Zayn rubs thoughtfully at his chin. “What if I just had them up here before we go to your parents? My sisters at least can come stay with me. We have like six days before we have to be in Wolverhampton.”

“Oh,” Liam blinks like the simplicity of that plan caught him off guard. “Yeah, that works.”

“It’s perfect actually,” Zayn says, thinking out loud. “They can help us.”

“Help us?”

Zayn stares at Liam. “Well, yeah. We just told your parents that we’re together, Li.”

“Yeah, so?” Liam’s confusion crinkles his brow.

“So,” Zayn says slowly. “That means we’re going to have to act like a couple. In front of your parents. For almost an entire week.”

He sees the moment it hits Liam, what they’ve really just agreed to. His eyes widen and his face pales. “Oh fuck.”

“Exactly,” Zayn sighs. “We’re going to need my sisters’ help babe.”

           

“Okay so wait,” Doniya struggles to speak through her laughter, one manicured hand held up so she can catch her breath. “Tell me again why you couldn’t tell Karen the truth?”

Zayn glares at his sister, not finding the situation nearly as amusing as she clearly does. “You try telling Karen Payne that you’re lying about dating her son,” he snaps out.

Doniya cackles and is quickly joined by Safaa while Waliyha just shakes her head sadly at Zayn. “I think that would have been preferable,” Doniya finally manages. “I mean now you’ve got to convince her that you and Liam are actually together. How much worse do you think it’ll be if she thinks you two aren’t a happy little couple?”

The thought is terrifying, so Zayn refuses to even let it linger in his mind. “Doni,” he whines instead. “That’s exactly why we need your help! We can’t disappoint Karen.”

“You’re an idiot,” Waliyha adds helpfully.

“Oi,” Liam complains appearing suddenly and walking back into Zayn’s living room with two beers clutched in his hands. He arrived just in time for dinner, and Zayn’s so thankful that Liam’s adept at handling his sisters, diverting their attention for the entirety of the meal with enviable ease. Even now, approaching the group, Liam looks at ease, a ready smile on his mouth, looking comfortable in a pair of worn jeans and a shirt that might have once belonged to Niall. “That’s my boyfriend you’re insulting,” he protests with mock indignation.

“Fake boyfriend,” Safaa corrects, and Zayn blinks, his brain hiccupping slightly over the correction, like it took him by surprise when the opposite should be true.

“No,” Doniya shakes her head. “That’s good. You should definitely get used to doing that. Calling each other boyfriend and such. Pet names too.”

Liam waltzes over to Zayn, hunching to hand him his beer. Zayn accepts it without comment but he is surprised when Liam cups the back of his neck and presses a quick kiss to his forehead. The motion isn’t completely foreign, so Zayn doesn’t startle back, though it’s been a while since either of them sought out these little acts of comfort. “Here you go, babe,” Liam says quietly, an equally quiet smile on his face.

Zayn melts and smiles gratefully back at him. “Thank you.” He means for more than just the beer, and he knows that Liam gets that, his brown eyes going soft in recognition.

Waliyha’s snort makes them both look towards her where she’s staring at them in amusement. “Just do that, and you’ll be fine. Look proper loved up right now.”

Zayn flushes, but Liam laughs as he releases Zayn’s neck. “Maybe we are,” he waggles his eyebrows suggestively at all three of Zayn’s sisters. “Your brother is ridiculously fit, after all.”

Safaa giggles as Waliyha wrinkles her nose. Doniya’s the one to respond though, glancing meaningfully at Zayn’s shoulder, where Liam’s warm hand still rests. “You sure you even need our help? I’m pretty sure you two’ve been acting like a couple since the day you met.”

Zayn tenses slightly but Liam just settles beside Zayn on the floor, facing opposite Doniya and Safaa over the coffee table. They’re elevated on the sofa with Waliyha the furthest away, curled up in the armchair. The coffee table is covered in discarded dishes, smeared with the remains of a home-cooked meal that Zayn maybe (definitely) begged Doniya to make.

(And it’s indescribably comfortable, having his sisters crowding his flat in London, like wherever they are is home automatically. It even smells like home to Zayn now, some combination of the food and a perfume that he swears his mum wears. His normally cold flat is warm with the flush of his sisters’ laughing cheeks as they grin back at him, and affection buzzes across Zayn’s skin because here he knows that he’s loved, absolutely and completely just for being who he is, and Liam – he doesn’t detract from that feeling but adds to it and that makes Zayn’s stomach clench pleasantly).

“Don’t think so,” Liam says eventually, throwing a casual arm around Zayn’s shoulders, beer gripped loosely in his thick fingers that catch the condensation. He tilts his head considering, like he’s thinking about that day three years ago, two dorky lads laughing over greasy chips with eager smiles and hearts, on the precipice of change. “It took a bit for Zayn to warm up to the casual touches, swore he hated me for the first few weeks.”

“Didn’t,” Zayn mutters, flushing slightly. “Never could hate you, Li.”

His sisters coo as Liam smiles brightly at him, and Zayn flicks a napkin at Safaa just to make her squeal and disrupt this moment (and the way that Doniya’s eyes don’t look as amused as before, flicking between them).

“Yeah but he did relax around you eventually,” Waliyha points out, barely looking up from her phone. “I swear you two haven’t been more than a meter away from each other this entire tour.”

“What?” Zayn’s brow wrinkles at the mocking edge of his sister’s voice.

Waliyha cocks an eyebrow and then casually tosses her phone at them. Liam catches it with a sporty ease that Zayn almost envies, angling the screen so that he and Zayn can both look at whatever website Wali’s dragged up.

It’s Tumblr, naturally, some post that’s a collection of pictures and gifs of him and Liam on stage with ridiculous captions underneath each. Zayn hardly looks at the words though, far too invested in the images.

He’s never given much thought to how often he and Liam hover around each other, not since the first tour and late night promises in too-small bunks about best mates and grounding each other when the world threatened to be too big and too small all at once. Now though, now he thinks that maybe he should have.

Zayn can’t even count how many images there are, and this is just one post. A single post on a massive website, but it has dozens of moments between he and Liam on stage, all just from this tour, made apparent by their outfits.

Him and Liam smiling at each other, giggling, arms around each other, thighs pressed together, offering each other flowers and other nonsense thrown on stage, watching each other sing with a level of fondness that Zayn’s frankly embarrassed to witness secondhand. Each image is different but exactly the same in a way, and shit, yeah Zayn can see why it might have been so believable so instantly, this idea of him and Liam together.

The way they care about each other is inarguable and very obvious in these images, if a bit misconstrued. (Though a small part of Zayn that he’s desperately ignoring is arguing that maybe it isn’t misconstrued, maybe – but no. He and Liam have a bond that’s deep and real and people don’t fall in love without realizing it anyways. That doesn’t happen).

“What’s this?” Zayn finally asks because he’s not sure what Wali meant to prove here, and he frankly can’t look at it anymore.

She shrugs carelessly, a cocky grin that Zayn swears isn’t familiar (except if he looked at photos of himself at that age, he’s sure it’d be the smile gracing his lips). “Proof, or that’s what some of your fans are calling it. There’ve been rumors since your tour started, about the two of you.”

“But why?” Liam, thankfully, looks just as confused as Zayn feels. “Like, why now? Zayn and I have always been this close.”

“No clue,” Wali shrugs again. “People say that you two have been touching more or something. I’m not that invested. This is just what I’ve seen.”

“So what’s your point?” Zayn’s voice borders on snappish, a nameless anxiety itching over his skin. He feels caged in a bit, almost wanting to shrug out from underneath Liam’s arm but he holds back because he doesn’t want to deal with the hurt expression he knows Liam will shoot him. Because it isn’t _necessary._ He shouldn’t have to pull away because they _aren’t actually together_ or not together or – just they aren’t anything but Zayn and Liam, like they’ve always been. And Zayn hates that it’s becoming all muddled.

Doniya cuts in, like she can tell that Zayn’s struggling, the way big sisters can always tell. “That’s helpful actually. I think Wali just means that you won’t have to change much, since people already believe it. Just...” she trails off, cocking her head at them. “Just scoot closer –”

Liam does before Zayn can even think to voice his hesitation, pressing closer until their thighs touch, hip to knee.

“Good, now Liam if you’ll just –”

Liam’s arm tightens before he moves it, dropping his elbow and wrapping his hand around the back of Zayn’s neck, fingers wrapping carefully as he cups Zayn’s nape gently. His thumb scrapes soothingly against the short hair there, and Zayn sinks into it without hesitation, instantly calmed. His head falls onto Liam’s shoulder, and he nearly purrs.

(And it might be Zayn’s best kept secret, how much he craves human contact like this, how he needs this connection, because it’s complicated. He hates strangers, can barely stand their touch, but if it’s someone he knows, someone he trusts, someone he loves – Well, he doesn’t bother fighting his addiction. And it isn’t any surprise that Liam was the first to catch on, that Liam’s always the first Zayn approaches when he’s craving this).

“Oh,” Doniya gapes a bit at them before she pulls herself together, and Zayn shoots her a poisonous look that simultaneously begs her not to mention it. “That’s not what I meant, but yeah. No, that’s kind of lovely actually. You two look –”

“You look like baba and mum,” Safaa chirps, grinning at them with all the innocence of her youth.          

Zayn nearly flinches, but Liam just laughs. “I doubt that, very much, but this is it? I mean, we barely moved.”

And Zayn’s heart stumbles because shit. Liam’s right. They’ve hardly moved, certainly aren’t doing anything that they might not have before. Sure, Liam’s thumb never traces through Zayn’s hair like this, and they don’t quite cuddle like this unless they’re alone but –

But all it took was a couple of little moves, hardly any motion at all, and all three of his sisters are looking at them like they’re one of those disgusting couples that everyone loathes. A couple of little moves and his sisters are looking at them like they _could_ believe it.

It’s terribly unsettling and Zayn can’t pinpoint why.

Waliyha shrugs, looking attentive for the first time all evening. “If I didn’t know you, I’d definitely think you were together. For a long time too. You look... comfortable?”

“Exactly,” Doniya nods, pretty dark eyes fixated on them, though she curiously won’t meet Zayn’s eye. “It looks natural. Like you’ve been together for a while. It’s – You two look good actually, really good.”

Zayn flushes, hard, but Liam giggles like a child. “We better,” he teases. “How could anyone look bad with this lad?”

Turning his head on instinct alone, Zayn’s arrested by just how close Liam’s face is. Liam’s grin spans his field of vision, bright and happy, and Zayn’s always been a bit in love with that smile, so up this close it’s devastating. He can feel his mouth pulling into a soft smile in response, and Liam’s fingers come up to rub just under his chin, against the slight growth of rough hair there because Zayn hasn’t shaved in a while. It feels good, the callused pads of Liam’s fingers against his skin, and Zayn refuses to move, maintaining a gentle eye contact with Liam that makes him feel nothing but warm.

“Okay, ew,” Wali snorts.

Liam’s hand drops and they both turn to look in surprise at Zayn’s sister.

“You didn’t need to go that far. Christ, you two have sold it. You’ll totally make Karen and Geoff believe.”

The fact that it takes Zayn a moment to even understand what she means – to remember because he’s somehow forgotten that right, this is all for show – makes him a bit breathless, and when he shifts slightly away from Liam, it’s absolutely intentional.

Liam allows it though, dropping his arm without complaint, and Zayn will absolutely not feel hurt about that.

He won’t.

But he knows he looks hurt by it when he catches Doniya’s eye and she’s biting the corner of her lip in concern. Zayn pointedly avoids eye contact with her for the rest of the evening, even as the conversation shifts to safer topics with only the occasional suggestion from his sisters to make them look more like a couple.

The fact that the pointers are only occasional – well, Zayn tries very hard not to think about that.

 

His sisters stay for two days, and Zayn has to fight with himself to keep from begging Liam to stay that entire time too. They’re his own sisters, he reasons; he shouldn’t need a buffer from them. Besides, he and Liam already filled management in on their plans, and they’re on strict orders to keep away from each other and ignore the rumors and speculation for the next few days.

(Zayn’s thoroughly convinced that Liam – good boy, rule following Liam Payne – would ignore management in a heartbeat and stay with him if he asked though, and that’s somehow enough for him to power through).

As his sisters linger in his doorway though, all but ready to leave, Zayn feels a bit guilty for his thoughts. He loves his sisters, he does, but this visit was weighted down by lengthy looks from Doniya and constant joking from Waliyha that grated on his nerves. Even Safaa, largely oblivious to everything, made a few comments that set Zayn immediately on edge.

Still, as he watches Waliyha knock Safaa away from where she’s trying to glance at Wali’s phone, he knows he’s going to miss them.

“We miss you too,” Doniya comments from beside him, watching the same scene he is.

“I know.”

She turns to him, dark eyes serious. “You’ll be alright though?”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “I’ve survived without you lot before.”

“Not what I meant,” Doniya sighs, sisterly concern so obvious on her face that Zayn’s joking retort dies in his mouth. “Just, with Liam and pretending to date. You’ll be okay, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Zayn drawls out, uncertain. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Doniya studies him, like she’s not sure if he’s serious or not, and Zayn can’t figure out why he would be joking about that. He fidgets under her scrutiny, and Doniya sighs, shaking it off.

“Just be careful, little brother.”

Her hand is fleeting on his cheek, there and gone as she turns and herds Wali and Saf out the door, all trace of solemnness gone from her expression.           

Zayn spends the rest of the afternoon in his empty flat trying not to let the silence – or Doniya’s parting worry – drive him mad.

 

Liam comes over that night, like he just knows that Zayn is going to be even lonelier than usual, and Zayn’s so grateful that he doesn’t even complain about how many selfies Liam is taking.

His phone goes off just as he snorts at the face Liam is making – pouty and ridiculous, and he probably looks great in it, the bastard – so Liam’s looking at Zayn when he glances down.

Zayn’s not sure what face he makes when he sees Perrie’s name flashing again, but it must not be pretty, since Liam’s dropping his phone and calling, “Zayn?”

Zayn shakes his head and shoves his phone away.

“Everything alright?” Liam asks immediately, eyes darting back and forth between Zayn and where he’s unceremoniously dumped his phone.

“Fine,” Zayn forces a tight smile. “Done taking selfies then?”

It’s a desperate bid to change the subject, but Liam allows it. “Not even close,” he declares, and then he reaches one determined hand over and hauls Zayn to him.

Zayn squawks in an undignified manner and goes to move back, but Liam pouts at him.

“C’mon, Z,” he pleads. “Take a picture with me. We can post it to Instagram and get yelled at by management.”

Zayn gives in with a laugh, and Liam snaps ridiculous photo after ridiculous photo of the two of them, faces squished together as Liam strives to make Zayn laugh and succeeds. He does post it to Instagram, but has to delete it almost immediately when management calls like three seconds later.

Still, watching their fans briefly freak out over the unexpected pic cheers Zayn up. Though, he thinks, that could mostly just be Liam.


	2. During

During

 

Zayn shifts on the admittedly comfortable seat once again, and Liam doesn’t even try to stifle his snort. The glare Zayn shoots him is nothing short of poisonous.

“Shut it.”

“Haven’t said a thing in two hours mate.”

“Not with your mouth, but your eyes, Liam,” Zayn snaps, and he doesn’t even need to see the disbelieving look Liam nails him with. He knows how absolutely mad he sounds, thank you very fucking much, but it’s not like he can help it.

They’re on their way to meet Liam’s parents – his parents. Zayn’s never met anyone’s parents before, not like this. He’s never been the type that girls bring home to mum and dad for a simple dinner let alone a fucking week. Even with Perrie, he only ever saw her mum for a couple of days and always on neutral ground, like his place or a concert venue or – and now that he’s thinking about it, that might actually have been one of their problems, his and Perrie’s. They never integrated their families, not like Zayn and Liam are about to. Zayn certainly never volunteered to follow Perrie home for a break, to let her mum get to know them as a couple, and – fuck this isn’t helping. Not at all, because now Zayn’s freaking out about Liam’s parents and his failed previous relationship and –

“Babe.” Liam’s soothing voice snaps him back from the edge of panic with a certain familiarity and when Zayn turns to look at Liam, his warm brown eyes are soft with concern. “You’re proper bricking it, Z. What’s the deal?”

It’s his genuine worry that breaks Zayn finally. He knows he must look a sight if Liam’s not even amused about his fidgeting anymore. “I’ve never met someone’s parents before.”

Liam blinks, wide eyes flicking back and forth between where Zayn’s curled up in the passenger seat (knees to his chest and arms wrapped loosely around him, painful lessons about making oneself a smaller target sticking from childhood) and the road. “Never?”

Zayn just shakes his head, chewing the inside of his bottom lip to shreds.

“But Perrie –”

“It wasn’t like this,” Zayn cuts him off, quick, his brain not even close to orderly regarding his ex. He doesn’t really want to even think about her, let alone talk about her with Liam. That’s always been a bit complicated, Perrie and Liam, the two never meshing the way Zayn had hoped they would. “Not ever like this,” he plows on. “It was always at like a concert or mine and Perrie’s place, and only for a couple of days at most. Not to just, like –”

“Relax,” Liam’s lips quirk. “You never went to her mum’s to just get away.”

“Exactly. And that’s like the whole point of this,” Zayn gestures vaguely at them and the car, rented through managements, and if it were Louis or Harry driving with a brand new license, Zayn would’ve never gotten in, but it’s Liam, with his careful control and determination in everything he does. So Zayn’s here, on his way to meet Liam’s parents officially, as his boyfriend. And he’s freaking out.

 “Well I doubt you’re going to relax much mate, judging by the state of you.”

 “Liam!” Zayn snaps, anxiety making his voice harsher.

Liam bites back his laughter and shakes his head. “Calm down, man. It’s just my mum and dad. Besides, it’s not like we’re really dating.”

Zayn pouts, something settling heavy on his ribs. “They don’t know that though. As far as they know we’re together and happy and – Shit, Li. I’ve never gone to someone’s parents and had to convince them that I’m good for their kid.”

Liam grins, clearly missing the point when he says, “I can’t believe you’ve never gone home to meet anyone’s parents.”

“I’m not exactly the type of guy most people bring home to mum and dad,” Zayn snaps, frustrated and on edge.

That manages to make Liam frown, and Zayn’s almost tempted to reprimand him when Liam turns his full attention away from the road, but then Zayn sees the expression on his face. Liam always gets pegged as the serious one, the mature one, and while that’s probably true, he’s actually rarely truly serious, not around the lads. He is now though as he levelly looks at Zayn with a slight pout to his bottom lip.

“Hey,” his voice holds all the quiet reassurance of the world in that one, simple word. “You’re exactly the type of lad people should bring home.”

“Liam,” Zayn looks pointedly at his bare arms, stained with ink that’s only going to spread (and maybe a small, cynical part of him looks past the ink to the color of his skin, to all that it means to certain people, to the way people stereotype it just as surely as they do his tattoos, reading so deeply into something that’s just the surface, twisting something personal into something political like the world isn’t hard enough).

Liam though – Liam looks like he knows what that cynical part of Zayn is thinking about, what he’s remembering from past, bad experiences, and he looks pained over it. “Doesn’t matter,” he finally says, shaking his head. “It’s just ink Zayn.”

Zayn’s grateful that Liam didn’t comment on his other possible meaning (they’d gone there only once and Zayn’s not proud of how long it took Liam to piece him back together after that conversation) but he can’t let it go either. “It’s ink and my attitude and Christ Liam, I smoke everyday practically and my moods –”

“Nope,” Liam denies firmly, not even looking at Zayn anymore, like what he’s about to say is so inarguable that he doesn’t need to. “Your heart is bigger than all that ink on your skin put together and your attitude is a defense mechanism to protect that. You only really smoke when you’re stressed and you only stress so much because you care just as much if not more. I know you, Z.”

The simple, firm statement knocks Zayn’s thoughts quiet.

Liam Payne is a fucking enigma.

It’s all Zayn can think as he gapes at Liam – Liam who is tapping out a rhythm mindlessly on the steering wheel like what he’s just said isn’t monumental. And maybe it’s not to Liam. After all he said that like it was the absolute truth.

But it’s world-shifting to Zayn, and if he has to blink a few times until his life settles around him once more, then no one can blame him.

No one can blame him because Liam comes off as this simple, straightforward lad with simple, straightforward thoughts and wants and beliefs, and he’s not. He’s not at all. He sees right to the heart of people, sees past all the bullshit and recognizes the good, and then he fucking cultivates it. Zayn swears Liam could make a cold-hearted murderer regret his sins and beg for forgiveness just given the time and inclination. 

But it’s still astounding to him that Liam sees him so clearly, knows him so well. Hell that Liam cares about him so much.

“I –” he ridiculously has to clear his throat. “Christ, Liam, parents must love you.”

It’s not really surprising that Zayn deflects with humor, a habit picked up from Niall that he can’t seem to shake. Liam, thankfully, goes with it, grinning widely. “They might.”

Zayn snorts and settles more deeply into his seat. “Of bloody course they do. Perfect Payne.”

Liam wrinkles his nose at Louis’s obnoxious nickname for him, but a grin still pulls at his lips. “All parents love me, it’s true, but don’t worry. My parents will love you, and that’s all that matters.”

Zayn shakes his head, still unwilling to believe Karen and Geoff will accept him so willingly, but he stops fidgeting and his nervousness fades, dissipated by the brightness of Liam’s whole-hearted belief in him, like the sun chasing away clouds.

 

“Zayn!”

He’s barely out of the car when Karen’s warmth wraps around him in a crushing hug that he returns with a dopey grin stretching his lips. Liam rounds the front and raises a pointed eyebrow at him, clearly saying ‘I told you so.’ Zayn very maturely sticks his tongue out at him just before Karen pulls back to look at him.

His face instantly morphs into a quieter smile, and he doesn’t have to look at Liam to know that he’s fondly rolling his eyes. “Mrs. Payne.”

“Karen,” she scolds instantly, their common greeting followed with a new addendum, “You certainly can’t call me Mrs. Payne when you’re dating my boy.”

She positively beams as she turns her head to look at Liam, and Zayn can’t help but wonder which of them is blushing harder. He thinks he might be though, the warmth in his cheeks almost burning him as relief sinks into his cells.

“Mum,” Liam shakes his head as he walks closer, gently pulling her hands away from Zayn to bestow his own hug on her. “Christ, act happy to see your own son at least.”

Karen returns the hug with a cluck of her tongue. “Of course I’m happy to see you, but I’ve always had a soft spot for Zayn and –”

“He’s your favorite, yes we know.” This time Zayn sees Liam roll his eyes and he quickly covers his laugh as Karen good-naturedly smacks Liam for it. The gentle reprimand doesn’t stop Liam from muttering, “The whole bloody world probably knows it.”

“Liam Payne!”

“Karen,” Zayn calls, deftly interrupting to save Liam from yet another disapproving swipe. “Do you mind if we –” he gestures at the boot of their car, widening his eyes in a hopeful look. Karen steps back instantly.

“Oh yes of course!” She flutters her hands. “Let me just call Geoff to help you with your things and then I’ve got dinner cooking so we can – oh I think Geoff’s upstairs though. Just give me a moment to –” She’s already darting towards the front door calling for her husband before she finishes her own sentence.

Zayn opens his mouth to tell her that it isn’t necessary, but Liam cuts him off with a hand at the small of his back.

“Let her fuss. By the time she gets him we’ll have everything.”

Following Liam around to the boot without a word, Zayn heaves out his own bag, noticeably smaller than Liam’s.

“Plan on stealing my clothes?” Liam teases once he notices.

“Borrowing,” Zayn corrects immediately.

“Yeah, I’d believe that if you ever actually returned any of them.”

Zayn knocks his shoulder playfully. “Stop letting me do it then. All the others have made it a rule. ‘Zayn cannot borrow our clothes.’”

Liam just shakes his head though, grinning widely. “No, it’s fine. They look better on you anyways.”

Zayn opens his mouth, not even sure what to say to that, not even sure he can say anything to that with a weird itch suddenly in his throat because it’s the second time Liam’s said something about how Zayn looks in Liam’s clothes, but Liam’s dad appears beside them just then.

“And help them!” Karen shouts from the door, clearly having just finished instructions that Zayn somehow completely missed.

“Yes, dear,” Geoff calls back dutifully before turning to Zayn and Liam with a conspiratorial wink. “Like you two strapping young lads can’t carry your own bags.”

Zayn tenses just slightly – it’s the dad thing, the dads are always worse, why are the dads always worse – but Liam just laughs.

“Hey, old man, best not break your back then by trying,” he slaps his dad’s back heartily and Geoff returns it with a brightness to his eyes that reminds Zayn startlingly of Liam.

“Nope, best collect Zayn’s at least or she’ll have my head.”

“Oh you don’t have to –” Zayn breathes, voice unnaturally high.

“Nonsense,” Geoff firmly grasps the straps of Zayn’s bag from him and throws it over his shoulder. “You’re a guest Zayn. Welcome to our home, son.”

He clasps Zayn’s shoulder, but Zayn hardly feels it past the sudden buzzing filling up his senses. Geoff just called him son, as in part of the family, as in something he’s certainly never called Zayn before. Zayn’s sure he can’t have heard that right, but then Liam’s making a choking sound behind him, and he knows that he did.

“What?” Geoff’s got a twinkle in his eyes that’s almost scarily like Louis. “You know by the time you two leave she’ll be demanding that Zayn here calls her mum. Might as well get a head start.”

With that he trots to the front door, leaving them both behind in a startled and slightly uncomfortable silence.

All Zayn can think is that he’s definitely fucked up. He’s not sure how yet, but he knows that he has in that way he always knows. Like the first time Ant and Danny talked him into skipping school and he somehow just knew that it was going to end terribly, and it had. Zayn was grounded for a month when someone just happened to tag the school at the same time and the three of them were accused simply because of their absence. That bad feeling has nothing on this one though.

Whatever he and Liam have done here, it’ll be bad.

Finally Liam nudges slightly against him, propelling both of them towards the front door. Zayn blinks dumbly at him. Stumbling over his own feet, he watches as Liam gradually relaxes.

“Well,” a slight grin tugs up one corner of his mouth. “And you thought they wouldn’t approve.”

Zayn can’t even manage to tell Liam to shut it, head still spinning in shock.

 

Being at the Payne’s feels like being at home.

That might not be such a big deal to other people. People like Harry who can make himself a home anywhere or people like Niall who can make himself a home with anyone or even people like Louis who don’t so much make themselves a home as carve one forcibly out - for those people feeling at home at their mate’s house probably just seems natural.

But it’s never been that way for Zayn.

The only place he’s ever truly felt at home is his parents’ house. It took him a solid week to even feel at ease in the new place he’d bought them, and he never feels quite right in even his own place without at least two members of his family present.

But he feels at home here.

He’s sprawled out on the end of the sofa, feet spread and arm thrown carelessly across the back as he talks footie with Geoff. Mostly throwing out what his own father thinks about the teams and season, he still feels at ease even with a significant lack of any real knowledge of the sport. Geoff’s demeanor is easygoing though, just as gentle as his son’s, and Zayn’s stomach is full of the delicious meal Karen cooked them, and he can just hear her and Liam laughing in the kitchen over the quiet background sound of the telly.

He’s been here for hours already but the time passes in that sleepy haze of relaxing days, and Zayn hasn’t felt on edge even once since he walked in the front door.

He almost expected a barrage of questions about their relationship when they sat down for dinner, but Karen and Geoff hadn’t asked a single question about it. They simply seem to have accepted Zayn as a part of their lives in the role of Liam’s boyfriend.

It’s mind-boggling and – frankly, the most welcome Zayn’s ever felt in his entire life.

Even now Zayn feels nothing but accepted.

There’s such a sense of comfort here in this simple home that Zayn’s not even really thrown when Liam comes in and throws himself across the sofa, landing with his head perfectly in Zayn’s lap. Zayn falters for only a moment, glancing down to see Liam’s impish grin and careless shrug before he looks up to see faint amusement in the corners of Geoff’s mouth.

His hesitation lasts for only a moment longer before he’s continuing his sentence as though nothing’s happened, somehow not even surprised when neither Geoff nor Karen comment on his and Liam’s position.

(Though he can’t miss the obvious looks of fondness they trade between each other every time they look at him and Liam. He does, however, miss the moment that his fingers fall to pet gently through Liam’s hair, causing Liam to close his eyes and relax further. Zayn doesn’t see it, but Karen definitely does, and Geoff sees her satisfied smile).

 

“I didn’t bother preparing one of the girls’ old rooms,” Karen calls over her shoulder, leading them both up the stairs. Zayn’s hardly paying attention, far too amused by Liam’s lack of coordination as he stumbles along behind his mum. He has to stifle a giggle when Liam totters unsteadily on the final step, blinking blurry eyes back at Zayn with a sleepy, disgruntled look.

(Zayn might be the one who loves sleep the most, who hates mornings, but Liam’s the worst waking up. He’s hardly a person for the first hour, not entirely functional until he’s showered, and Zayn can’t count how many times he’s bodily hauled Liam into the shower after an impromptu kip because there’s just not a better method to wake him up).

“Shut it,” Liam mumbles, rubbing tiredly at one eye and glaring at Zayn with the other as they slowly amble along behind the still-chattering Karen.

Zayn’s half-tempted to say something like ‘you’re adorable,’ but he’s not confident that Liam’s too tired to hit him for it, so he just grins wider.

“– and I just know that Liam’ll be sneaking down the hall and into your bed anyways, so what was the point?”

Zayn’s head snaps back to Karen only to see her grinning at him and Liam. “Sorry?” he squeaks, not sure he heard her right.

“Oh, you two,” she coos. They come to a stop beside a single door and dread settles heavily in Zayn’s gut. “I know how you two are, and it’s not like you’re sleeping apart on tour, so I didn’t much see the point.”

“Mum,” Liam flushes, hard. “We don’t –”

“Oh hush, Liam,” Karen waves him off blithely. “I’ve seen you two stumble out of Zayn’s bunk in the morning. Don’t bother trying to lie to your old mum about it now.”

And – okay, Zayn can admit that it has happened before. But only a couple of times! It’s not like they constantly share beds. Life on the road is just hard sometimes, and all the lads crave the simple comfort of another body beside them. The fact that Zayn always goes to Liam is just – well, he’s closest to Liam, trusts him the most.

He can remember, clearly now, when Karen came on the bus during tour to find them climbing out of Zayn’s bed. He hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but he blushes hard when he recalls their state of dress. Somehow he doubts he can convince Karen that that night was strictly platonic when both of them were just wearing pants, and Liam was bare-chested. Every excuse – the poor cooling on the bus, being half-awake when Liam crawled in, how lads don’t really wear pajamas – is true, but none of them sound it.

“You don’t have to let us share,” Liam tries, clearly abandoning all hope of convincing his mum that they don’t share beds regularly. “I know you and Da have rules.”

“Those are for your sisters.”

Liam’s brow furrows. “You kept Danielle and I separate when she visited.”

Something twists in Zayn’s gut at the idea of Danielle here. He dismisses it immediately as residual anger over the slap she had given him. It was a hell of a slap, after all. (And it definitely doesn’t have anything to do with the idea of Liam sneaking down the hall to climb into Danielle’s bed in his parents’ home. Nope).

“Yes but Danielle and your sisters could get pregnant, dear. No fear of that with you two.”         

Zayn swears it shouldn’t be possible for him to blush harder. He does though, and it only gets worse as Karen continues.

“Though I still expect you two to keep your hands to yourselves,” she fixes them with a stern glare that breaks a moment later, her lips twitching in a way that immediately reminds Zayn of Liam. “Remember that your dad and I are just down the hall. We can hear you. I’m sure you two can hold off for a few days at least.”

“Mum.” Liam looks absolutely horrified and Zayn’s seriously considering demanding his own room at this rate. He and Liam are already standing with a meter of space suddenly between them, like that’ll persuade Karen that they don’t shag like rabbits.

Karen surveys them and, clearly proud of her handiwork, chuckles. “Sleep well, boys. See you in the morning!”

She leaves with another giggle and the silence she leaves behind is somehow even worse than the one earlier with Liam’s dad.

It’s – Zayn honestly has no words, and judging by the complete shock on Liam’s face, neither does he. Zayn can’t believe that Karen – _Karen_ – embarrassed them so thoroughly, and with a smile on her face too!

“Liam,” Zayn says eventually, just to break the silence but also because he really wants to know, “Why the hell do your parents love embarrassing us?”

It startles a laugh out of Liam, and Zayn relaxes. It’s always been his motto that if Liam’s laughing then everything else doesn’t matter. Even the fact that his parents clearly believe he and Liam can’t stand to sleep apart for a single night.

“I mean it,” Zayn continues, leading the way blindly into the room because he’s slightly terrified that if they linger in the hall Karen or Geoff will come back to embarrass them further. “Are they competing or something? Like, whoever shocks us the most wins a prize?”

Liam follows him, rubbing thoughtfully at his jaw. “Might be.”

Zayn snorts. “Your mum definitely wins then.”

Uncomfortable silence fills the room as they both stop, arrested by the sight of Liam’s childhood bed. It’s not a single – thank Christ, because Zayn’s honestly not sure what he would do if it were, the floor looks horribly uncomfortable but he’d be damned before cuddling with Liam on a single with his parents right down the hall – but it’s certainly not as large as Liam’s bed at his house or any of the beds in the hotels they’re used to.

Zayn opens his mouth, about to suggest he sleep on the inside, closest to the wall so that Liam can get up and do his normal morning run, when Liam blurts out, “Shower. I’m gonna go –” He jerks his thumb awkwardly towards the hall and then disappears out the door with his bag still slung over his shoulder.

Staring at the door dumbly, Zayn blinks once, twice, but Liam doesn’t come back. Another door closes and Zayn’s definitely alone.

Liam left him. Zayn almost wants to laugh, but his gut is cramping tightly with something like rejection. Which is ridiculous, he knows. Just because Liam’s clearly uncomfortable with the idea of sharing a bed with him – but no, that explanation doesn’t feel right either. Shit, they’d just shared a bed at Liam’s house. Zayn’s not even sure what this is, but he does know that Liam’s feeling weird about it, which only makes his own awkwardness grow.

And for the first time Zayn finds himself wondering if they’ll be okay after this. Because that’s just it isn’t it – this pretending will end eventually, and Zayn hadn’t even thought about it before. He and Liam have always been unshakable, this pillar in Zayn’s life, and this unnamable fear grips him now. What if they can’t get that back?

What if this – pretending to date, pretending to be in love, just pretending – changes them?

It’s unthinkable and suddenly all Zayn wants is to go back to Liam’s house, to go back to that afternoon spent on the couch watching the Nolan trilogy, right before everything had shifted.

Aware that he’s being melodramatic and freaking out a bit, Zayn shoves that all away. There’s nothing to be done about it now, not with Liam in the shower. So he forces himself to tug on a loose shirt and some pajama bottoms and climbs into bed.

Sleep doesn’t come, so Zayn’s still wide awake on his back with an arm thrown over his eyes when Liam returns. He’s quiet, moving around softly like he thinks Zayn’s asleep, and Zayn could let it go, but that fear is still hovering in his gut, digging in.

With a soundless sigh, Zayn drops his arm. “Liam.”

Liam’s eyes dart to him, wide with guilt. “Sorry,” he blurts immediately, gaze skittering away from where Zayn’s sprawled underneath the sheet near the wall.

And that’s it for Zayn. “Look, I’ll just sleep on the floor.” He goes to slide out of bed, but Liam holds up a hand, stopping him.

“No, you should have the bed. I’ll –”

“I’ll just ask Karen to make up another room then,” Zayn cuts him off, unable to really look at Liam. “We can tell her we aren’t comfortable sharing a room in your parents’ house or something. I don’t know. Just –”

“Zayn.”

Zayn looks up, poised to stand and leave, and Liam’s right there. His hair is wet, dripping down the side of his face, and he’s dressed in a stretched tee and jogging bottoms. His face is calm, having lost that uncertain edge.

“Get back in bed.”

Something races through Zayn’s chest and he pushes mercilessly against it. “Li –”

Liam shakes his head, brown eyes so earnest as he meets Zayn’s gaze. “Just – I’m sorry, yeah? It took me by surprise, is all.”

“If it bothers you –”

“It doesn’t.” Liam sounds sure, a small smile tugging up one corner of his mouth. “Come on, Zed. You know I love cuddling with you.”

Zayn snorts, tension evaporating as he slumps back, letting the mattress cradle him again. “You just like cuddling.”

Liam laughs and stumbles a few steps over to flick the light off. He doesn’t pause when he approaches the bed again, peeling back the sheet and climbing in. Zayn shifts automatically to give him a bit more room, but there’s still barely a centimeter between them when they’re both laying out on their backs. “‘S true,” Liam admits, shifting onto his side with one arm tucked underneath his pillow. “But you’re still my favorite person to cuddle with.”

“I’m telling Niall,” Zayn teases.

Liam’s nose wrinkles, eyes sliding shut. “He knows he’s a shit cuddler.”

“That’s your new favorite mate you’re talking about.”

A sleepy hum leaves Liam’s barely parted lips. “Don’t tell Louis. He’ll get jealous.”

Zayn laughs once, quietly, and then lets the air between them fill with silence. Liam’s breath evens out as he watches, and he’s pretty sure that Liam’s on the cusp of sleep, when he whispers, “Liam?”

“Hmm?”

Zayn shifts onto his stomach, laying his head on his crossed arms so he can face Liam, studying his peaceful face. “We’ll be okay, yeah? After this, I mean. Like – we’ll still be us.”

Liam’s lips pout, but he doesn’t open his eyes. “‘Course, Z. We’ll always be us. Bit of a bromance, right?”

“Shut it.”

A tired laugh, more a puff of air, hits Zayn’s face as Liam shifts. His hand comes to rest on Zayn’s lower back, patting clumsily and then just staying there. “We’ll be fine,” Liam breathes, definitely almost asleep. “We’ll always be fine.”

His hand doesn’t move again, and Zayn lets it remain even after Liam falls asleep. It’s a comforting warmth, a physical reminder that he and Liam will be okay.

They have to be.

 

The next morning, he wakes up to Liam’s voice insisting he get up and his hand tracing Zayn’s spine.

Zayn throws out a hand and tangles it in Liam’s shirt, tugging him hard enough that Liam falls onto the bed with an oomph. Pressing his advantage, Zayn scrambles closer until he’s pressed against Liam, nose buried in his shoulder. Liam smells good too, a bit like fresh cut grass and rain. “You showered,” he mutters nonsensically.

Liam chuckles. “Yeah, babe, went for a run this morning.”

“Gross.” Zayn can’t imagining forfeiting sleep for exercise. “We’re s’posed to be relaxing and shit, Leeyum.”

“Think you’re relaxing enough for both of us. Now, come on. Mum made breakfast, and she’ll be upset if you miss it.”

Zayn cracks an eye open and glares sleepily at Liam’s charming smile. “That’s playing dirty, Payne.”

“Can’t be dirty, I just showered. I’m clean.”

A laugh escapes Zayn before he can restrain it, but he still shakes his head. “Awful. That was an awful joke, mate.”

“You laughed.”

“Didn’t.”

“You did,” Liam snorts and then shifts. Zayn groans, but Liam ignores him and clambers out from under him and off the bed. “Seriously, get up. I won’t save you if Mum decides to come and wake you up herself.”

“That’s cruel,” Zayn argues, but he does manage to prop himself up a bit, keeping his eyes open as he blinks the sleep away.

Liam just grins. “She’ll do it, too. See you downstairs in ten.”

He leaves before Zayn can formulate an argument, and Zayn slumps back into the bed with a groan. He thinks he can lay here for another few minutes and still make Liam’s dumb deadline.

When he makes it downstairs more than ten minutes later after a much-needed shower, Liam’s leaning against the kitchen counter and talking to his mum as she stirs something on the stove. Zayn zeroes in on the mug Liam’s holding but not drinking out of, and he stumbles his way directly up to Liam.

He slumps into him, trusting Liam to catch him, which he does with a startled noise and a quick arm around Zayn’s waist. Zayn ignores his raised eyebrow and looks at him hopefully. “Mine?” he glances meaningfully at the mug and then back at Liam, widening his eyes and pushing his lips into a pout.

“You’re ridiculous,” Liam mocks him, but he hands over the mug. It’s coffee, so Zayn knows it was intended for him. He takes it and hums happily, letting Liam take most of his weight as he leans up against him. Liam accepts this without comment, raising a hand to run through Zayn’s still-wet hair and tugging gently through the tangles.

Zayn hums happily and rests his temple against Liam’s shoulder so that Liam can continue and he can sip his coffee. He catches Karen’s eye and smiles sheepishly at her. “Morning.”

She grins widely at them. “Morning, Zayn. Sleep well?”

He nods, and Liam laughs. “Zayn can sleep anywhere, Mum. You have no idea. This one time he...”

Zayn ignores Liam’s story, letting the words wash over him meaninglessly as Karen laughs along. He feels good this morning, and whatever Karen’s making smells delicious. Any worries from yesterday are long gone, and Zayn lets himself relax completely.

 

The next couple of days pass in a blur of contentment. He and Liam honestly don’t do much unless Karen or Geoff asks them for help. He laughs himself nearly sick when Karen makes Liam try to help with dinner the next night, and Liam spends the whole time pulling faces at Zayn behind her back. Eventually Karen kicks Zayn out, and he and Geoff hide on the front porch and talk until dinner is done.

The bed situation isn’t a problem after this first night. Even when he and Liam wake up tangled together one morning, they both just grin over it and then Liam goes for his run and Zayn goes back to sleep. It’s almost easy, really, pretending around Liam’s parents. He and Liam act almost as they always do, just changing their cuddling to something a bit clingier. They sit with Liam’s arm around Zayn’s shoulder, Zayn’s head on his shoulder instead of in his lap. Or sitting with their thighs pressed together during dinner. Liam squeezes his hand when he asks Zayn to pass something, and Zayn brushes his fingers through Liam’s stubble when he gets up to help Karen with the dishes.

When Ruth stops by on the third day, he and Liam continue on as they have. Her gaze is sharp as she watches them with muted humor, but Zayn’s not terribly worried. He and Liam have clearly managed to convince Karen and Geoff that though they’ve only ‘been together’ for a few weeks, they’re happy. Older sisters are more protective, but Zayn watches Ruth eventually lose her edge until her smile is as bright as Liam’s.

Zayn’s just about to pull away, thinking of seeking Geoff out, when Ruth addresses him and Liam both with a grin.

“Well you two look happy together.”

Glancing at Liam, Zayn watches him flush slightly. He presses his shoulder harder to Liam’s where they’re sat next to each other at the kitchen table. “We are,” Liam confirms, pressing back and glancing at Zayn and then away, back to his mum and sister on the other side of the table.

“They’re lovely,” Karen coos, cradling her drink in both hands and beaming at Zayn and Liam.

Ruth laughs, a daring twinkle in her eyes. “Well Liam, give him a kiss then.”

Zayn’s thoughts halt abruptly, and he’s sure that he tenses. He’s completely thrown, and he can’t believe that they didn’t think of this before. Not this particular situation of course, but they hadn’t thought of the fact that they’d eventually have to kiss. It hadn’t come up with Zayn’s own sisters, but he thinks now that it’ll look suspicious if he and Liam never kiss, especially since Zayn’s not sure how long they’re meant to keep this up anyways. Plus, Liam’s family believes that they’re dating, and it’s not like Liam’s ever been shy about kissing in front of others.

“Sorry?” Liam chokes out, brown eyes wide when Zayn looks at him. Liam doesn’t look back, gaze firmly fixed on his smirking sister.

“Oh, come on,” she prods.

“Ruth,” Karen admonishes, cheeks a bit pink as she giggles like she wouldn’t mind if he and Liam did.

“I –” Liam stutters, looking down at his hands and fidgeting in discomfort. “We don’t really kiss in front of others. It’s well –”

Ruth raises an eyebrow. “It’s just me and mum, Liam. Not like we’re going to snap a picture and publish it somewhere.”

“Of course not,” Liam frowns. “I just –”

Zayn moves without thinking, disturbed by how uncomfortable Liam is. He’s not sure what his reasoning is – maybe that if they just kiss, it’ll get Ruth off Liam’s back – but he carefully presses fingertips into the far side of Liam’s jaw. Liam turns automatically, and Zayn leans forward slowly, darting his eyes to Liam’s lips and back so that his intention is clear.

Liam looks startled, lips parting around a hiccup of breath, but he doesn’t pull away. Zayn takes that as permission and slides his hand against Liam’s stubble so he’s cradling Liam’s face, guiding the kiss as his eyes fall closed. Their lips press together softly, Zayn’s bottom one slotting gently between Liam’s. It’s just easy pressure, nothing heated about it, but Zayn lingers for a moment, caught up in the silk of Liam’s mouth, the heat of his plump lips.

He pulls back, a burning sensation in his lower stomach. Liam looks dazed, and Zayn giggles. His thumb slides gently over Liam’s bottom lip as he pulls away, like he’s pressing the kiss into Liam’s skin. When he settles back into his chair, Ruth lets out a cackle that makes Zayn flush, pleased with himself.

“Christ,” she gasps out, staring at Liam’s still shocked expression. “You must be one hell of a kisser, Zayn.”

Liam clears his throat, blinking and settling back into himself. “He is.”

Zayn shakes his head, biting back a grin, but he’s relieved when Liam settles back with his shoulder against Zayn’s and the conversation resumes. A buzzing feeling hums just behind Zayn’s heart, but he dismisses it as nothing but adrenaline.

 

Ruth leaves later that night, and the last couple of days at the Payne’s pass uneventfully. Zayn and Liam don’t talk about the kiss, and Zayn’s not sure if he’s glad they don’t or if he wants Liam to at least address that it happened, that it might have to happen again. He’s not sure how he feels about that either, having to kiss Liam again. The thought doesn’t bother him, but the fact that it doesn’t bother him, bothers him. Zayn feels like he shouldn’t be this alright with kissing his best mate, but it’s not like he has anyone to ask. He certainly doesn’t know anyone with a similar experience to talk about, so he ignores it as Liam does.

Only two moments after stick out, for different reasons.

The first is when Zayn and Liam are cuddled on the sofa yet again, Zayn’s head on Liam’s lap this time as he flips through a book he’s read about a million times just for something to do. Liam’s fingers go still suddenly from where they were fiddling with Zayn’s sleeve, and Zayn looks up with a silent question.

“You haven’t smoked.”

Zayn blinks, surprised that Liam even noticed, but it’s true. He didn’t even bring cigarettes with him. “No, I haven’t.”

Liam gapes at him. “But you – Zayn I don’t think you’ve gone a day before without since I’ve none. Did you want to? I don’t mind sitting on the porch with you, if that’s it.”

Zayn shrugs and goes back to his book. “That’s not it. I didn’t bring any cigs with me.”

Liam’s fingers tip his jaw up, and Zayn startled at the unexpected touch. But Liam’s clearly focused on the smoking issue. “What?” he demands, and shocked doesn’t really cover his expression. “Zayn –”

Zayn sighs out, slight embarrassment putting him on edge. It’s dumb, is the thing, and he knows it, but he still finds himself explaining it to Liam. “I just – I wanted to be the type of lad you’d bring home, alright? Wanted to make a good impression, or something, and smoking doesn’t really help with that. So, I didn’t bring any, to make sure I didn’t cave in.”

“That’s insane.” Liam’s voice is awestruck, and it makes Zayn squirm.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he mutters, rebelliously turning back to his book. (It kind of is though, he knows, because he’s always had trouble quitting the habit, but this time he’s managing alright for some reason).

“You’re kind of amazing,” Liam points out. Zayn ignores him pointedly. Liam goes back to watching the telly with a shrug, but Zayn catches it when he whispers, “And you’re exactly the type of lad I’d bring home.”

The second moment feels more monumental almost, and it happens when Liam comes back to his room one night, freshly showered because he’s finally given up on his morning runs.

Zayn’s not really prepared for Liam to walk in just clothed in a towel, and he’s really not prepared for the way Liam looks freshly showered. He’s gaping, can feel it, but can’t help it. Water glistens on Liam, and his hair is shoved messily back from his forehead, and all of his muscles flex as he digs through his bag and –

Zayn’s a massive fucking cliché, that hopeless lead in a terrible romantic comedy who can’t tear his eyes away from the love interest, but fuck.

Liam’s just – he’s something else, and the fact that Zayn’s attracted to him settles deep in Zayn’s gut. It’s not a surprise necessarily, not when Zayn was once interested in Liam, but it does rearrange a few things for Zayn.

He barely manages to look away before Liam catches him staring.

 

On the last day, the four of them – Zayn, Liam, and Liam’s parents – are gathered on the driveway, saying goodbyes. The car’s already packed, and as much as Zayn’s loved being here, he thinks he’s ready to be back in London. He’s craving the solitude of his flat, the simplicity of hiding out. He just wants to think for a bit, mind too cluttered by far.

“And you’ll drive safe,” Karen threatens, pointing a firm finger at Liam that dares him to argue with her. Geoff has his arm wrapped around her, clearly trying to guide her towards the house after a solid half hour of saying goodbye already. Geoff’s shaken Zayn’s hand and hugged Liam goodbye, and Karen’s hugged them both half a dozen times, but she’s still lingering. Zayn doesn’t know; her hesitance is familiar, something his own mother does when he leaves.

“Yes, mum,” Liam agrees easily, moving backward slowly like he doesn’t want to startle her, prompting another teary hug. “We’ll be safe. I’ll call you when I get home.”

“You’d better.”

“I will.” Liam’s clearly biting back laughter as he rounds the front of the car. “Love you both!” He darts inside, starting the car before his mum can hope to make him linger longer.

“Thank you, again, for having me,” Zayn says, hand on his door as he gets ready to jump in after Liam.

Karen’s hand on his shoulder stops him, and he glances at her in surprise. She’s smiling up at him. “Take care of my boy?”

Zayn swallows thickly in the face of her earnestness. “I will.” It’s nothing he wouldn’t have promised her before, but it carries a new weight to it now. Mostly, he’s surprised by how much he means it.

Karen nods and then Geoff’s guiding her back into the house. Zayn climbs in and shuts the door firmly, and then Liam’s pulling onto the street.

“Sorry,” he looks sheepish. “She always gets like that when I leave again.”

“No, it’s fine,” Zayn clears his throat, feeling like something is stuck in it. “My mum does it too.”

Liam glances at him, tilting his head curiously. “Alright?”

Zayn looks out the window. “Yeah, I’m good. I just... I had a really good time.”

 

They return to London, and their week away with Liam’s parents seems like a dream. Zayn would almost let himself believe it had been, but management called them on their way back to the city and asked that Liam be photographed dropping Zayn off. It’s probably the quickest Zayn’s ever acquiesced to one of their requests.

Staring at the photos now – the nondescript car, Liam watching him through the open window as Zayn hikes his bag over his shoulder and grins, Zayn walking up the pathway to his flat, Liam lingering to make sure he gets in – Zayn knows he can’t pretend none of this is happening. He’s confronted with it, his and Liam’s fake relationship, and Harry was probably right when he advised Zayn through a text to stay away from media for a bit.

Speculation is running rampart, and nearly all major news sources are at least mentioning the story. Zayn understands the attention, he does – same sex marriage is being legalized in multiple places finally and they’d be arguably the most high profile same sex couple if they came out – but it weighs heavily on him.

It’s not true, is the thing. He and Liam aren’t together. Hell, as far as most everyone close to them knows, Zayn’s not even on the gay spectrum. It looks true though.

He scrolls through the pictures again, clicking over a few more tabs that he has open. It’s like a comprehensive history of his and Liam’s friendship open in his browser, and Zayn can admit that it looks like _more_ all stacked up like this. He feels a bit like he’s condemning himself. Judge, jury, and executioner, it’s like Zayn’s sentencing himself here.

It’s not true.

But more and more, a voice in Zayn’s head is insisting that it could be.

 

“Why is Zayn already done?” Harry whines, coming round a rack of clothes and tugging at his jacket with a pronounced pout on his lips. “You stuck him in one outfit and called it good. Why can’t that be the rest of us?”  
Caroline doesn’t even glance up from her phone, perched on the windowsill beside Zayn in this cramped room filled with overpriced clothes. The band’s at their last fitting for the movie premiere, and Harry has a point. Zayn’s been done since he slipped the first jacket on (long and black and nothing at all like a traditional suit jacket), the clothes falling against his thin frame in the way only perfectly tailored clothes can, but the rest of the lads have been sent back and forth as Caroline tweaks their looks.

“Because the rest of you aren’t near as pretty,” Caroline replies finally, squinting her eyes at Harry for a moment and then shaking her head. “No, definitely not. Go try on that other shirt underneath.”

Zayn smirks as Harry glares at him, not deterred at all by Harry’s petulance. He’s missed his boys, and spending any time with them feels nice.

Of course then Harry mutters, “He’s not that pretty,” rebelliously, and Zayn’s rethinking his contentment.

“Liam’ll hear you say that and knock your head,” Niall’s voice proceeds him as he waltzes up behind Harry in a mock-letterman jacket that has three-quarter sleeves and almost blends into his black shirt underneath. “That’s his boyfriend you’re talking about.” The wink Niall shoots Zayn is overdone and awful.

Zayn rolls his eyes as Harry snorts. The lads have been alright with the entire thing honestly, but he’s getting rather tired of the constant teasing. It’s not like he and Liam are even acting differently around them, no matter what Louis says (though he’d looked genuinely serious as he’d made that comment this morning, staring at Liam and Zayn when they’d first walked in, Zayn cuddled close under Liam’s arm – but Louis can fuck off because Zayn had just been tired and it’s nothing they wouldn’t have done before).

“You’re good, Niall,” Caroline cuts in quickly before the conversation can derail more than it already has. “Hang them up on the empty rack at the back with Zayn’s outfit, and you can head out.”

Niall whoops and reaches for a fist bump from Harry which Harry flatly refuses to give. Niall just shrugs and lopes off the way he came, undoubtedly already on his phone texting God-knows-who to do God-knows-what.

“I want to wear the heart shirt.” Zayn glances back at Harry and Caroline to see the two facing off.

“No.” Caroline’s complete lack of hesitation is born of years of practice.

Zayn bites back a laugh at the tired argument, skillfully avoiding Harry’s narrowed eyes, like it’s Zayn’s job to talk Caroline into it. Zayn refuses, even if Caroline’s much more his friend than his stylist these days. He effortlessly tunes out their conversation, eyes immediately fixing on Liam as he comes round a corner, tugging at a grey jacket not dissimilar from Zayn’s.

His heart thumps in his chest as Liam glances up with a ready smile on his face, like he could feel the weight of Zayn’s gaze and that’s – it’s been a bit different since they got back from Liam’s parents’. Not bad different, definitely not, but different all the same, like their connection had gotten – not stronger but – deeper. Zayn can’t pinpoint what’s shifted, which puts him on edge, but Liam’s still Liam so he ignores it.

He can’t stop himself from pulling a face as he takes Liam in now though. His trousers fit well, and his shirt’s good, but that jacket... Zayn’s grimace grows more pronounced.  
Liam laughs. “No, then?” He tugs once more at the grey jacket, and Zayn fights the urge to demand he take it off. It’s awful on him, too posh, too strained on his broad shoulders. Another laugh flies out of Liam’s mouth, “Definitely not. You look slightly murderous, babe.”

“It’s awful,” Zayn admits, biting his bottom lip and hardly even registering the endearment that’s steadily become more common. “You look – well, great because you always do, but – it’s not you.”

Liam flushes, cheeks pinking prettily, and Zayn’s stomach twists pleasantly. Unbeknownst to him, a sly smirk pulls at his lips, and Louis, rounding the racks just then, rolls his eyes immediately and walks after a departing Harry without even attempting to speak to Caroline. Zayn misses it all as he holds Liam’s gaze.

“I agree,” Caroline’s voice cuts in, and Zayn blinks to find that Harry’s gone, off into the depths of the racks again, no doubt to find Louis and complain.

Caroline’s lip twitches as she glances back and forth between Zayn and Liam, and Zayn fights the urge to rub at the back of his neck like he’s a boy that’s been caught at something. “Go try on the formal jacket, Liam. The proper suit jacket, yeah?”

Liam nods easily, shooting Zayn one last grin before he departs. Zayn waves his fingers in parting, a habit they’d picked up at Liam’s parents’ house that Zayn just hasn’t shaken yet.

When he turns back to Caroline, she’s smirking at him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Caroline trills. “Just wondering what you’re still doing here, really. You’re sorted, babe. Go home.”

Zayn immediately shakes his head, the very thought unappealing. His flat is unbearably cold and empty these days; he honestly can’t stand being there. “Nah, think I’ll hang around. This is much more entertaining than anything I could find to do.”

Caroline fixes him with another curious look, but just shakes her head. “Sure, love. That’s why you’re here.”

 

Three hours later, and Zayn’s thinking he should’ve heeded Caroline’s words. He’s watching Louis’s departing back after Caroline finally approved his outfit – some shortened blazer with three-quarter sleeves, a trend that Zayn just frankly doesn’t understand though he’s also wearing it. All the lads are sorted now (Harry grinning with his victory of the heart shirt) except –

“I just don’t like it,” Liam states, tugging uselessly at the sleeves of yet another suit jacket. “It doesn’t um, feel right? Does that make sense?” He looks at Zayn.

Zayn shrugs.

“No,” Caroline nods along. “I want you to feel comfortable on the red carpet.” Zayn barely holds back a snort, but Caroline glares at him like she heard it anyways. “What about – try that one Harry had on earlier? Double-breasted?”

Liam sighs but dutifully turns and walks away. Zayn watches him go, grinning stupidly at Liam’s bare feet as they disappear under the cuffs of his fitted trousers. The black material fits him well, too well honestly, much better than Zayn’s trousers fit him. Liam’s trousers outline every shapely line of his muscles legs while Zayn’s are just straight-legged, not nearly enough there for the material to cling to. Honestly, Zayn can’t look away from the pull of the material with every even stride Liam takes.

When he focuses back on Caroline, she’s giving him a knowing look and Zayn –

He’s finally put it together after half a day of it, what she’s implying with all of her comments and looks, and Zayn’s not amused. There’s nothing between he and Liam, but he knows that if he’s the first to bring it up, it’ll just make him look guilty.

So he tries diversion, “Can’t believe you didn’t bring Brooklyn.” Which is just the truth; Zayn loves his goddaughter, craves more time with her honestly, especially now that she’s old enough to be forming a personality. He loves kids, all kids, just as Harry does, but honestly Liam’s the one whom kids love back. Zayn swears it’s the pure joy that Liam just seems to be radiating at all times, like the freaking sun or something. Zayn can easily see him with Brooklyn, sitting happily on the floor and just watching her play, that wide grin on his face; the image warms Zayn through. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen her,” he pulls himself back.

“If I’d brought her, we couldn’t have our conversation,” Caroline shoots back immediately, arms folding across her chest.

“What conversation?”

“This one.”

He tries very hard not to flinch, but he’s not sure he succeeds. “It’s not what you think.”

“The fact that you have to say that proves it is.”

“It doesn’t,” he denies flatly.

“So nothing’s happened between you and Liam, then?”  
And –

The flush on Zayn’s cheeks is really unfair. _Nothing has happened_ between he and Liam, nothing but that kiss which – it was a bit mind-blowing in the moment, Zayn can admit, but it was just a kiss after all, and it’s not the reason for Zayn’s blush right now.

No, that reason is this morning, when he woke up with his cock straining against the damp material of his briefs after a dream that makes him hot just to think about. Some bloke in his bed, pinning his hips down with forceful hands that were made to leave marks, an arrogance Zayn’s unaccustomed to in bed, and a smirk on his plush lips that makes Zayn’s throat go dry even remembering it. And Zayn had woken up just as the lad had been tugging his waistband down, fingers nearly brushing the base of his cock when the lad had looked up with bright eyes and –

It’d been Liam.

Zayn wishes he could say the realization hadn’t only startled him awake but had killed his hard on. It hadn’t though, and Zayn had wanked off with fantasies of Liam dancing across his eyelids despite his best efforts otherwise.

Zayn’s been a tangled knot of confusion ever since, though he’s done a damned good job of pushing that down.

Of course, now Caroline’s unknowingly brought it up and Zayn has to convince himself that Caroline can’t _possibly_ know that; fuck, no one knows that but Zayn because he couldn’t bring himself to tell anyone that he’d come so hard from the thought of Liam going down on him.

“Nothing’s happened,” he replies, trying to make his voice firm.

Caroline just tilts her head. “But you want it to.”

“I –” Zayn falters and hates himself for it. “No, of course not. It’s Liam, just Liam, Caroline. Come on.” He’s not sure exactly when that statement – one he’s certainly made before – started tasting like a lie.

“It’s Liam, exactly,” Caroline continues brutally, dark eyes far too knowing even if they are kind. “You two have always been –”

“He’s my best mate!”

“You’re wearing his shirt.”

Zayn glances down at his chest, and yeah, alright fine. So he’s wearing one of Liam’s shirts this morning, but their clothes had gotten all mixed up at his parents’ place, and Zayn had been too lazy to sort it out then. And it’s not like he’d even thought about it this morning when he’d tugged it on. Unless – Zayn cuts himself off immediately, hating how easily doubt crawls into his thoughts these days.

“How do you even know that?” he mutters instead of trying to deny anything, since his own mind’s not clear on the subject.

“Thought I wouldn’t recognize something I’d picked out? Honestly?” Caroline looks extremely unimpressed, but there’s a current running under her words that reminds Zayn strongly of Doniya, sisterly concern almost.

Zayn sighs, loud and drawn out. “Suppose not.”

They stare at each other for a moment, Zayn silently begging Caroline to let it all go. He’s not ready for an in-depth conversation, can’t stand the thought of her warning him as Doniya had done; he’s not thinking about it, any of it.

“Should I start picking out clothes that suit both of you then?” Caroline’s tone abruptly shifts to teasing, like she senses that Zayn’s on edge. Her eyes are laughing as Zayn glares at her even as he relaxes infinitesimally. “Proper boyfriend stuff, I mean. You could match –”

“Shut up,” Zayn huffs out a laugh, amused despite himself. But hesitation still lingers in his gut, a warning to persuade her, like he has something to _prove_. (Guilt of course though he’s being intentionally too thick to acknowledge that). “But it really isn’t –”

“What about this one then?”

Zayn and Caroline both glance up to see Liam fidgeting in front of them in yet another suit jacket. This one does fit well, Zayn can admit, but it still just doesn’t look right. Liam’s almost too put together, too amazing in a full suit while the rest of them lean towards casual, at least for a red carpet event.

Caroline’s already shaking her head like she agrees with Zayn. “No it’s just not meshing with the rest of the boys. I’m sorry, Liam. Maybe we could try a jacket like Niall’s?”

“No,” Zayn immediately shakes his head, seeing it easily. Liam would look great, no doubt, but that’s not really his look. Studying Liam now, his buzz cut growing out on top, his firmer muscles, the way his face has thinned a bit, he doesn’t read as star athlete, not quite the lad your parents would be thrilled that you brought home anymore. No, his look has gained an edge, and Zayn will be the first to admit that he loves it when Liam dresses up to that edge rather than trying to downplay it.

“So what, then?” Caroline demands, sounding just as exasperated as Liam’s trying not to look. “We already tried the blazer, the traditional jacket, one likes yours –”

And it’s that statement that sparks an idea in Zayn’s head. The words one likes yours echoing around in his head and dredging up an idea. “Hold on,” he’s up and brushing past Liam with a light touch to his shoulder to make sure Liam stays put. Wandering through the racks, he looks for his own section, eyes flitting over all the various fabrics for –

He snatches the jacket off the hanger as soon as he spots that telltale gleam, hurrying back to where Liam and Caroline wait.

“This one,” he holds it out to Liam who doesn’t even look at it before he’s shrugging his jacket off and taking the one Zayn’s offering, complete trust in Zayn’s fashion sense.

“So?” Liam asks, as soon as it’s fitted tightly across his shoulders.

Zayn’s breath hitches, loud and noticeable.

Liam looks gorgeous in Zayn’s new leather jacket, the one that instantly came to Zayn’s mind when Caroline mentioned his clothes. Zayn hasn’t worn it yet even though he specially requested it but Liam – he looks stunning in it.

The leather adds to Liam’s edgier look, pulling tight on him since it was ordered for Zayn, but it doesn’t look bad. Quite the opposite really, Zayn thinks dazedly as he drinks in the way it clings to Liam’s wider arms. The tie and white shirt underneath contrast dangerously, and Zayn’s dazzled with images of Liam riding up to a formal event on a motorbike of all things, like he doesn’t give a fuck about proper appearances or the like and –

“Yeah,” Caroline’s voice snaps Zayn out of it. She’s glancing at Liam with an approving gleam in her eyes. “Definitely looks good on you, Liam. I never would have thought, but it rounds out the other boys’ looks too.”

Liam laughs, relieved as he turns to grin at Zayn. “Didn’t know you were a stylist, Z.”

Zayn cracks a grin, throat a bit dry. “Not hard when you look good in everything, Li.” He wants to take it back immediately, but Liam’s just laughing again, looking back at Caroline.

“So I can go then, yeah? Outfit’s all sorted?”

Caroline waves him off, and Liam’s gone in a blink. Zayn goes to follow, not really sure what he wants from Liam except for maybe companionship as they make their way home when Caroline catches his eye again.

One of her eyebrows is raised, but her lips twist in amusement. “Dressing him in _your_ clothes now, I see.”

Zayn’s breath hitches again, for an entirely different reason this time. It wasn’t like that, though. He wasn’t thinking of the fact that it was his jacket, just that it would look good on Liam. “Shut it,” he mumbles, glancing away and making sure that Liam hasn’t overheard. Zayn’s not sure what’s going on with him right now, but he does know that Liam’s exactly the same and so can’t know that Zayn isn’t.

Caroline just hums. “I’ll just put something leather on you then as well, shall I?”

Zayn doesn’t even bother answering that.

 

Zayn pulls at the tight, leather material, absolutely hating Caroline for adding it to his look. He thought she was _joking_ when she’d made that comment, but his clothes had arrived this morning with the new piece and very firm instructions. So now Zayn’s got a bit of leather that matches Liam’s jacket.

Speaking of –

Zayn glances at Liam and swallows hard. He’d honestly thought Liam had looked amazing in that small room a few days ago, but now he knows he was wrong.

Liam looks amazing _now._

The jacket is zipped up, which really shouldn’t make that much of a difference, but it does. It pulls tighter against Liam’s shoulders now, clinging to his torso, and Zayn desperately wants to unzip it just to give himself some room to breathe.

He holds back his twitching fingers, just barely, but the presence of the others stills him. They’re waiting to make their appearance on the red carpet, surrounded and hidden, and there’s screaming that’s nearly deafening and –

The premiere of their movie is much bigger than Zayn had expected it to be.

Tight nervousness pulls at his stomach, and Zayn feels vaguely nauseous, not like he’s going to throw up but more like he’s going to pass out. Because this is it, isn’t it? This is when he and Liam have their big coming out, and Zayn had sort of just accepted that, not really thought about it, but it’s all too present now.

There are so many people, so many screaming fans excited to see them, and Zayn knows that they’re all going to be watching him and Liam closely because the rumors are still going strong and unanswered.

Well, they’ll be answered now, somewhat.

He and Liam have been instructed to hold hands for the entirety of the red carpet, through interviews and pictures and everything. _Act normal_ , Megan (which is definitely Zayn’s assistant’s name, he checked) had said. _Play it off like you two holding hands is nothing, and only make a confirming statement if somebody directly asks_.

And okay, so those instructions don’t seem like a big deal, certainly shouldn’t feel like a big deal but –

But holding hands is so intimate is the thing. Zayn gets that a lot of people don’t think of it like that, but he always has. There’s just something so declarative in tethering another person physically to you, in tangling your fingers tightly together like you hate the idea of being separated, like you want to be viewed as one instead of two. And that’s all just the way it _looks,_ Nevermind the way it _feels_.

Soft skin to soft skin, pulses pressing together, fingers tangled tightly, a reassuring presence cupped in the dry palm of a hand and – fuck, Zayn hates that it feels like that to him. For fuck’s sake he and Liam have _kissed_. Holding hands should not be a big deal.

(It is though, and Zayn can pretend that it’s because of the statement he and Liam will be making to the entire world, but that’s hardly the only reason).

“Zayn?”

He jumps, fingers running down his thighs to wipe away sweat as he guiltily meets Liam’s eyes. “Yeah?” he strives for a calm voice, but he’s not sure he manages, especially not when Liam’s warm, brown eyes darken in concern.

“You alright, mate?”

“Of course,” Zayn answers far too quickly, turning his eyes away because he can’t lie to Liam’s face.

“Hey,” Liam slides closer, coming between Zayn and the rest of them, his back to the group like he’s shielding Zayn from everything else. His eyes are kind, and his fingers are cool as they brush against Zayn’s chin. “We don’t have to do this. Honestly, management can come up with another plan if you don’t want to –”

“No,” Zayn quickly shakes his head. He’s not going to back out of this now, not when he’s already agreed, not when the plan’s already in play. “No, really, I’m fine. I just... there are a lot of people. I wasn’t expecting it, is all.”

Liam’s grin is bright as he glances over his shoulder at the crowd currently hidden from them. His expression is pure joy as he clearly basks in their fame, and Zayn is grateful for it, if only because it’s everything Liam always wanted. “It’s mad,” Liam agrees, eyes crinkling. He turns back to Zayn after a moment though, smile sliding into something a bit softer. “Is that what you’re worried about? Coming out in front of so many people?”

Zayn just shrugs. It’s a part of it certainly. As accepting as the world has become, as accepting as their fans are in particular, Zayn’s not naïve enough to believe that no one will hate he and Liam for this. He knows that as positive as the reaction the rumors have been, there’s also been a percentage of people who aren’t reacting that way; people who sneer at them now, people who hate. It’s nothing Zayn’s not used to.

“Hey,” Liam calls him back yet again, this time with the tips of his fingers brushing gently to the back of Zayn’s hands. Zayn starts but doesn’t pull away as Liam tangles their fingers with an easy grin and a soft expression that instantly calms Zayn. “It’ll be alright, yeah? Most people seem fine with it, and those that don’t? Fuck ‘em, Zayn.”

Zayn laughs, startled but joyful because he knows what it took to get Liam to this point. He remembers all too well the boy he’d met on X Factor, the one who hadn’t really experienced acceptance yet, the one who curled into himself at the slightest negative comment. It’s impossible to forget that Liam knows how harshly people can hate almost as well as Zayn does.

“Where’d that boy on X Factor, go?” Zayn can’t help but tease. “The one who never cursed and cared what people thought?”

Liam winks poorly at him. “He got this kickass best mate with a fuck-off attitude.”

“I did not have a fuck-off attitude,” Zayn protests.

“You really did, babe. Thought you were too cool for everyone.”

Zayn shoves playfully at Liam’s chest, their tethered hands pulling Liam back after he stumbles, and Zayn looks at their tangled fingers in surprise. He’d honestly forgotten that they were holding hands, though now that he’s looking Liam rubs a careful thumb over his knuckles. Zayn shivers at the gentle pressure, glancing up at Liam with wide, trusting eyes.

“We’ll be fine,” Liam reassures, rubbing once more at Zayn’s chin like he wants the reassurance of the familiar gesture just as much as Zayn does. “I’ll protect you, babe.”

Zayn’s not sure what to say to that weighty promise, but he doesn’t have to. Megan turns to them then with a firm gaze. “It’s time.” Sure enough, when Zayn looks past her the other boys are already walking around the barrier, screams growing louder as the crowd catches sight of them. It’s mad, absolutely insane that they’re at the premiere of their own movie, but it’s not what Zayn’s most focused on. It’s all Liam right now, he and Liam and their relationship.

The breath Zayn pulls into his lungs feels freezing even though it’s the end of August. His heart thumps harshly under his skin, and he’s sure that Liam can feel it. And maybe Liam really can, because he meets Zayn’s eyes one last time as he pulls Zayn’s hand up to his mouth and brushes his lips across his knuckles as his thumb had just done. The entire world stops as Liam does it again, holding Zayn’s gaze without fear as he kisses Zayn’s hand.

The stillness that flows through Zayn is wholly surprising and entirely consuming, but welcome nonetheless.

“Ready?” Liam asks, lips millimeters from Zayn’s skin still, like if Zayn says no Liam’ll just keep them here, his lips on Zayn’s skin until Zayn’s ready to face the world. And Zayn realizes quite suddenly that Liam would do it if he asked. It’s a realization fit to reshape his entire life, but Zayn can’t parse it right now, not under Liam’s watchful, protective gaze.

So Zayn nods numbly, off-center but clinging to Liam.

Liam leads them around the barrier without another word, and Zayn follows on faith alone – faith in the strength of Liam’s broad shoulders, his belief in Zayn, the unbreakable trust between them.

He’s blinded as soon as they round the barrier by dozens of flashes, of course. His instinct is to throw his hand up and shield his eyes, but he can’t because his dominant hand is tangled up with Liam’s. He squints instead, screams growing impossibly louder around them as Liam raises his empty hand up in a wave. Zayn watches him, mind lagging a few moments behind, but he takes in the easy way Liam’s grinning, the way he’s angled slightly towards Zayn, the way their hands are in clear sight so that they present a united front.

Zayn can only watch Liam charm everybody staring at them, falling under the spell himself because Liam’s so effortless with everything. He was born for fame in a way that Zayn wasn’t, and that might make Zayn feel even more uneasy but Liam’s clearly aware of it because he keeps Zayn slightly behind him and turned in, like he’s shielding Zayn even now.

A quick glance, Liam’s eyes just sliding past his as he simultaneously squeezes Zayn’s fingers, and Zayn feels his bones settle.

The world comes back around them, screams echoing loudly as photographers shout at both of them, asking questions and demanding their attention at the same time. It’s cacophonous but not disorienting, not with Liam beside him. Zayn finally feels his lips tug into a slight smile, and he raises his free hand to wave as Liam does. The screams grow louder yet again, and Zayn’s honestly impressed with the lung capacity of their fans at this point.

Liam’s shoulder suddenly presses into him, and Zayn turns to see Liam gazing at him, a proud smile at the corners of his mouth. Liam doesn’t try to say anything, but Zayn presses closer in acknowledgement of Liam’s pride, a silent thank you in the way he lets himself lean on Liam as the camera flashes grow in intensity.

 

The entire red carpet is a blur after that, a complete flurry of activity that Zayn just lets Liam guide him through. They do group shots, where the other boys all grin and wink at them, and then some individual shots before moving on to interviews and greeting some fans. Zayn’s nerves are completely gone as he clasps Liam’s hand loosely, hardly even noticing it except for when Liam periodically squeezes his fingers, like a reminder that he’s right there if Zayn needs him.

Zayn’s feeling reasonably calm at the moment though, grinning at where he can see his mum with Karen further down the red carpet. The two women are giggling into each other, and Zayn’s glad he had the foresight to call his mum and confess that Liam’s family didn’t know it was all a lie. His mum had surprisingly just accepted it, and now, watching the two women, Zayn can see how happy they are. He forgets, often, that their families stay in contact, bound by the fame of their sons, and Karen and Tricia are perhaps closest outside of Jay and Anne.

“Think they’re planning a wedding?” Liam’s voice suddenly sinks into Zayn’s ear as he rests his chin on Zayn’s shoulder, scooting up behind him with their hands still loosely clasped.

Zayn’s heart pitches, and he snorts. “Christ, probably. We should separate them before they pick out colors. My mum’s got awful taste.”

Liam laughs, turning his head just slightly inward so Zayn can feel his breath ghosting just over his styled hair.

Megan appears out of nowhere, gesturing them towards the barrier with a pointed nod of her head at where a pretty woman stands just in front of a camera. She doesn’t even have to say anything for Zayn to know what it means: interview.

Surprisingly, Liam doesn’t bother pulling away, remaining pressed behind Zayn’s back. In fact, he drops Zayn’s hand in favor of moving more firmly behind him and tracing up Zayn’s arms to rest his hands on Zayn’s shoulders. He pushes lightly until Zayn walks over so that they’re in the camera’s view, just beside the interviewer.

The woman nods at them in greeting before turning to the camera, “I’m here with Zayn Malik and Liam Payne of One Direction at the premiere of their movie _This Is Us._ Well, lads, first I feel like congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you,” Liam answers immediately as Zayn nods along. “It’s mad to be here. Never imagined we’d make it this big, let alone get our own film.”

The interviewer laughs, eyes pointed as she glances between them. “Of course, of course. But that’s not actually what I was referring to. Rumors have been flying about the two of you, and judging by your current positions, I assume it’s safe to say that they’re true.”

Zayn’s surprised that he doesn’t tense up at the rather blunt statement, but he thinks that has a lot to do with the way he can feel Liam laughing behind him, stomach pressed firmly to Zayn’s back. When he turns his head just slightly, he can see spots of blush on Liam’s cheeks, his grin wide enough it looks painful. Zayn’s heart thrums.

This is it; this is the moment where they’re meant to confirm it, and Zayn doesn’t feel the least bit apprehensive, even though the whole situation feels like a set up courtesy of management. He knows that Megan’s watching them carefully from a few feet away.

The interviewer waits patiently for answer, and Zayn surprises himself by being the one to answer.

“Yeah,” he says firmly, voice a bit husky as he grins brightly. Liam’s hands tighten on his shoulders, and Zayn leans back into the pressure. “It’s um, recent,” Zayn continues, “but yeah, definitely some truth to the rumors.”

He’s surprised by the fleeting warmth of Liam’s wet lips pressed to his cheek, but he turns his head into it on instinct.

“Recent?” the interviewer pounces immediately, luckily settling on the word Zayn had hoped she would pick up on. “How recent, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“A few weeks,” Liam shrugs, chin resting once more on Zayn’s shoulder. One of his arms wraps easily around Zayn, and Zayn plays with his fingers without thought. “Once we got back from our tour, and everything slowed down.”

“So the rumors of cheating,” the interviewer presses, and Zayn has to force himself not to scowl. It’s her job, he knows, not that it makes the situation much better. “You’re saying those aren’t true?”

“No,” Zayn says firmly, gaze locked on the camera. “Liam would never cheat.” And okay, so that’s a bit pointed, and Zayn might still be harboring some anger at Danielle for slapping him, but he doesn’t want anyone to assume the worst about Liam.

Liam just holds him closer, as though he wants to comfort Zayn. “There were some misunderstandings,” Liam allows, keeping it deliberately vague as he strives to keep from mentioning Danielle directly. A noble effort that Zayn’s not sure he would have troubled with in Liam’s place. “But everything’s worked out now, and – well, we’re happy.” His grin is wide again as he says it, and Zayn can’t help but mirror the expression, turning to let his nose nudge against Liam’s cheek in a gesture of affection that’s not entirely foreign that it echoes with memories of X Factor when Zayn had largely unable to stop himself from reaching out for Liam for comfort.

The interviewer’s smile softens just a bit. “Well, you two certainly look it. Congratulations, not only on your relationship, but your success as well.”

Zayn lets Liam wrap up the interview, content to just rest in front of him. Content, really, to be anywhere Liam is.

 

The other lads meet them in the lobby, Niall greeting them with a loud whistle as Louis mocks them heavily for holding hands the entire time. Zayn largely ignores him, keeping his grip on Liam because others are still lingering around the lobby. Harry eventually snags Louis’s attention, giving Zayn and Liam a welcome break.

“Alright?” Liam mutters quietly to Zayn.

Squeezing Liam’s hand, Zayn grins. “Definitely, babe. Always am with you.”

Liam’s grin is tight, but he’s speaking before Zayn can ask. “Come on, then. Let’s go watch our film.”

           

Zayn and Liam sit by each other (only after Louis makes a big deal of it with a pointed, “Let the lovebirds sit together, Harold” that makes Niall crack up and Liam tense slightly) and Zayn is overly conscious of the centimeters of space between them. His hand feels cold once Liam lets go, and he flexes it sporadically. That off-balance feeling from before is back, and it only gets worse as he watches their film on the giant screen.

He thought he knew what to expect, having been around for the majority of the filming obviously, and for the most part he did. He’s ready for the performances, for the call to his mum, for the interviews with just him and the camera. Some of it makes him cringe, but he knew to expect it.

What he doesn’t expect though are all the moments between him and Liam.

He tries to tell himself that he’s just sensitive to it because he’s looking for it, aware of the narrative they’re currently pushing. But that’s only part of it, honestly. After all the film was cut and put together for the most part before they’d even gotten back from tour.

So there’s really no reason for all of the little moments between he and Liam, but they’re there, glaring in Zayn’s face.

The goodbye in the airport that reads as needy and makes Zayn flush. The way they’re sleeping beside each other, the way Liam wakes him up, every time they touch onstage. It’s all ordinary things, but now it’s cast in a new light. Zayn has to view it all as others would, as every other person in this theater probably currently is.

And it all looks like the beginning of a relationship.

It knocks the air from his lungs a bit because he’d honestly never thought his and Liam’s relationship was anything out of the ordinary, but watching it play back in front of him, he knows it was. It’s almost too intense for a friendship, and Zayn has no idea what to do with that information.

He feels uncertain, off-balance like he might stumble at any moment.

Still, when Liam shifts closer to him, Zayn lays his head on Liam’s shoulder. He’s just not sure if it’s for the right reasons anymore.

 

That night they all go to Zayn’s, a gaggle of paps following them, tipped off by management of course. Everyone’s buzzing from the premiere and possibly from the flask that Niall smuggled in and then shared with a conspiratorial wink. Hours pass with Harry and Louis sprawled out on the couch, Harry’s head in Louis’s lap, Niall on the floor leaning against Louis’s leg. Zayn and Liam claim the loveseat, sitting side by side at first, but no one’s really surprised when they gradually shift until Liam’s practically in Zayn’s lap and Zayn’s leaning against the arm.

Zayn’s not sure who starts it, but suddenly everyone has their phone out, scrolling through Instagram or Twitter or Tumblr, giggling and showing off all of the reactions to Zayn and Liam. (And something flutters just behind Zayn’s lungs at the rush of support everywhere, at the genuine happiness people are expressing). When Harry holds out a picture of them from the premiere, a still from the interview with Zayn being dwarfed by Liam behind him, Liam presses a sloppy kiss to Zayn’s cheek with a giggle. The flash of a phone going off doesn’t surprise Zayn, really, nor does the shit-eating grin on Niall’s face as he posts it to Instagram.

Of course, that sets off all the lads and pretty soon it’s like a contest to find the best photo of Liam and Zayn. Louis wins (according to Harry at least) when he drags up that one from their early days on X Factor. Zayn snorts because it’s not even anything special in his opinion, just him dead tired and passed out on Liam’s lap with Liam slumped over him, also asleep. Louis declares that it’s the ultimate ‘ziam’ picture though and then harasses Zayn until he gives in and sets it as his Twitter icon. Liam giggles and then presses closer, his face half-buried in Zayn’s neck as he grins at the camera and snaps another picture of them, setting it as his.

The other lads leave around three, stumbling out together with all of their arms wrapped around each other and laughing because they can’t quite walk like that, but Liam’s under strict instructions to stay at Zayn’s. They stumble together up the stairs, Zayn’s stash of wine heavily depleted because Louis’d dug into it after only about twenty minutes, and then fall into Zayn’s bed. Their clothes are kicked off haphazardly, neither of them bothering to find something else to sleep in.

Liam buries his face into Zayn’s side and sighs happily, lips puckering for half a second in a barely-there kiss against Zayn’s ribs. Zayn doesn’t push him away after, just curls up with Liam.

“Sorry that this is how you had to spend your birthday, mate,” he mumbles, half-asleep.

Liam sighs into his side. “Never a bad day when I spend it with you.”

Zayn’s chest grows tight, but he cuddles Liam closer, ignoring their half-dressed state completely.

(And the next morning somehow isn’t awkward, Liam grinning at him from the bathroom doorway, cheeky about stealing the first shower and all the hot water. Zayn demands breakfast in recompense and when Liam gives in, he checks his phone. He’s surprised by the mass amount of notifications until he remembers all of their photos from the night before. Blush burns high on his cheeks when he sees the posts, but something warm unfurls when he looks at that old photo of he and Liam, of a time when Zayn had honestly thought he could fall in love with his best mate).

 

The rest of their break passes much the same with Liam and Zayn mostly maintaining a low profile. Zayn doesn’t really understand the point of that – shouldn’t they be going out, getting the publicity, wasn’t that the whole point? But then Liam argues that if they were really together he’d want to hide Zayn away, keep him to himself, and he’s much too flustered to argue against it.

Besides, that means he and Liam are free to screw around while the rest of the boys have to make more public appearances. They spend a large amount of their time together out of boredom, and it never ceases to be funny, rubbing their freedom in Louis’s face. Every photo they send over snapchat gets progressively more ridiculous, increasing Louis’s irritation, until finally Harry puts a stop to it by begging Zayn to take pity on him and stop tormenting his boyfriend.

So he and Liam tweet at each other to entertain themselves, just to watch their fans’ reactions, and Zayn’s so thankful that the reaction is so positive. He’s tired of the hate, but he’s used to it at least. Liam isn’t really, and Zayn’s determined to keep it that way. But they can only do that for so long as well before they’re forced to stop (mostly at the complaint of Niall who swears he can’t even golf in peace because of them).

After that, he and Liam are forced to entertain themselves, and they waste away days and days watching movies and playing FIFA, and Zayn doesn’t even really notice that the little touches, those little couple things they’ve taken to doing, keep on, even though they’re not in public. It catches him by surprise one day then when Liam presses a kiss to his cheek in greeting, but Zayn turns into it easily, dismissing his worries with a grin because it’s just _Liam._

He and Liam are still papped a few times, but those photos are largely just the two of them walking together, sometimes holding hands, sometimes not. Management isn’t on their backs as long as they’re seen out and about every few days, so Liam and Zayn take the opportunity and run with it.

They go shopping, and Liam whines the entire time that Zayn looks better in absolutely everything, causing Zayn to flush hard and the girl working to smirk. She hides it quickly, but as soon as Liam leaves (off to find what he swears will be the perfect shirt for Zayn and “it’ll look ace, babe, promise”) she’s grinning easily at Zayn.

“He’s rather into you, isn’t he?”

Zayn stutters over an answer, not even sure what he would say to that if he and Liam were _actually_ dating, but the girl just shakes her head.

“It’s cute. You’re obviously just as into him.”

When Liam comes back the promises shirt in tow, Zayn buys it just to make him smile, and he perfectly understands the girl’s wink as they leave.

 

Nothing feels that different Zayn thinks as he and Liam stand in line for coffee (in a decidedly different shop than the one in which all of this started). Liam’s swinging their hands between them, chattering on about that new song he and Louis are working on, and Zayn’s just watching him.

He’s reminded fondly of their time on X Factor, when he and Liam bonded out of necessity more than anything. All of the small touches, the constant interactions, the affection, reminds him of first discovering how similar he and Liam were. They reclaim that closeness, and Zayn thrills under it. He hadn’t even realized how much he had missed Liam before, but now he nearly aches with it.

(And maybe a part of him whispers that this is dangerous, that this is too much like X Factor, that Zayn’s falling hard again but this time there’s no Danielle to distract Liam so it doesn’t have to end, it could become more than just a silly crush on a fit boy he hardly knows... But Zayn ignores it. He and Liam are best mates now, that’s all. It makes sense that this all so easy).

Liam orders his coffee for him when they reach the counter, and Zayn doesn’t think twice about pressing a kiss to the back of his hand and muttering, “You’re the best boyfriend ever babe.”

 

Their tour starts again, and nothing much changes with that either really, except management requests that Liam and Zayn either stay on the bus together at night or share a hotel room. Liam wraps his arms around Zayn from behind and playfully bites at Zayn’s shoulder when the others catcall, and Zayn giggles helplessly. He catches Harry’s worried gaze on them but shakes his head quickly. He knows what Harry’s worried about and – it’s just not a valid concern. Zayn’s got everything under control. Liam’s his best mate, doesn’t like him like that, so even if Zayn does develop a crush on him again, nothing will come of it.

Zayn’s got it handled.

 

The first time Liam serenades Zayn onstage, singing out the lyrics to “Little Things” with a truly believable longing face, Zayn’s breath hitches, and he hopes that his mic didn’t pick it up.

Liam’s head cocks to the side curiously, like it might have though, and Zayn is quick to look away, seeking out the first thing he can to distract everyone. He spots a rose lying on the stage near him and scoops it up.

Presenting it to Liam with a flourish as he sings his own part with a smirk, Zayn nearly laughs when Liam flushes but accepts the flower. Their fans go crazy of course, and Zayn catches the way Louis rolls his eyes at them. Niall winks though, so Zayn figures he did what he was supposed to.

 

The small touches get more frequent onstage after that, which isn’t a problem since it’s what they’re supposed to do, but Zayn quickly finds that he starts doing them offstage too.

It’s a struggle to keep from constantly reaching out for Liam anytime they’re together, and his mind is flashing danger signs at him about it, but Zayn doesn’t know what to make of it. He’s never had problems like this before.

Still, his fingers feel cold when he forces himself not to reach out for Liam as they pass each other in a hallway.

 

Harry approaches Zayn with his concerns after about a month, and Zayn brushes him off.

“Zayn –” Concern furrows Harry’s brow, and he’s gotten taller but Zayn still sees the young kid he was on X Factor. The kid who was desperately in love with his boyfriend and struggling to hide a part of himself he’d never had to fear. It’s hard for Zayn to take Harry’s advice on anything when their experiences with relationships are so vastly different. Harry’s never loved anyone but Louis, never known anything else, and Zayn just can’t relate to that.

“It’s fine, Haz,” he cuts him off, focusing on his legs as he tugs on his skinny jeans for that night’s show.

“But –”

“I promise,” Zayn makes himself meet Harry’s eyes. “It’s nothing, yeah? Just pretending. I’m not seventeen anymore. I’m not gonna fall for my best mate. Liam and I are just having fun.”

Harry sighs but drops it. “Just let me know if it becomes too much, yeah? I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Zayn completely misses the way Harry stresses the word anyone, not quite catching the importance of Harry saying _anyone_ instead of _you._

He and Liam are outside when that control that Zayn reassured Harry he had slips almost completely through Zayn’s fingers.

They’re leaned up against a wall outside the venue, Zayn smoking because he couldn’t kick the habit completely, though he’s definitely cut back, and Liam’s laughing his way through a dumb story. It’s not even that funny, but Zayn’s having to fight a smile.

He’s not sure why he does it exactly, but Liam’s laughing, and then suddenly Zayn’s reaching forward. He wraps a hand in Liam’s shirt and tugs, and then his lips are pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to Liam’s lip.

When he pulls back, Liam gapes at him, and that’s when it hits Zayn.

He just kissed Liam.

In the next second, flashes light up the darkening sky, and they both jump and turn to see a gaggle of fans beyond a barrier, phones all aimed at Liam and Zayn.

“Way to seize the moment,” Liam giggles, voice a bit strained, as he turns back. “They definitely got that on camera.”

Zayn shrugs tightly. “Yeah, guess so.”

He doesn’t mention that he hadn’t seen the fans until after he’d kissed Liam.

 

“Liam Payne I swear to God if you don’t sit the fuck down –” Louis starts, voice climbing impossibly high, and Zayn glances up in apprehension. Liam’s nearly bouncing in front of Louis, antagonizing him, and it must be bad because Louis looks seconds away from committing serious violence on Liam’s person.

When Liam comes closer, unable to stop himself from moving apparently, Zayn snags him around the waist and yanks. Liam falls with a surprised sound, directly onto Zayn’s lap. Zayn immediately snakes his arms around Liam’s middle, keeping him there. He’s only thinking of keeping Liam away from Louis, having not thought out what he’s going to do with Liam now that he’s got him. Liam’s surprise only lasts for another moment though, and then he’s twisting around to stare in curiosity at Zayn.

“Caught you,” he hums, smirking at Liam when Liam grins down at him.

“Keep him,” Louis commands from across the room, glaring at Liam. “He’s got far too much energy.”

Liam squirms like he’s proving Louis’s point for him and sticks his tongue out at the lad he’s become rather close with. Zayn doesn’t really understand their relationship, but he does know when Louis’s had enough of Liam’s preshow adrenaline, which he completely understands. Liam just loves being onstage so much, though, that Zayn can’t stand the idea of stomping on his excitement.

“What’d you do?” Zayn asks when Louis turns away after flipping Liam off. The others are finishing getting ready, but Liam and Zayn are already done. Harry’s wandered off somewhere, and Niall hasn’t made an appearance yet.

“Nothing,” Liam denies instantly. “Louis’s just being grumpy today.”

Zayn snorts but quickly buries it in Liam’s back. “Give him a break, yeah Li? Not all of us are pure sunshine.”

“Sunshine?”

Zayn flushes a bit. It’s the way he thinks of Liam, has done for ages now, but he’s never really said that aloud to anyone. “Yeah,” he mutters, not even trying to explain it. “You’re always bright like sunshine, sunshine.”

Liam beams under the new nickname, proving Zayn’s point, and Zayn finds himself chuckling.

Niall walks in then, snagging Liam’s attention. Zayn’s grateful when Niall sits down to chat with Liam, not sure he could have entertained Liam otherwise, and he’s even more grateful when Josh from the band wanders over to talk to him.

When Liam makes a sudden movement, Zayn glances at him, bemused to see that Liam’s pulled his button up shirt open in a cheesy superhero move that Zayn knows well.

“Keep your clothes on, Superman,” he teases, pressing a swift kiss to Liam’s shoulder through his shirt when he feels Liam laugh. He turns back to Josh, surprised to see the drummer grinning at both of them with a level of fondness he usually only reserves for Niall.

“What?”

Josh shakes his head. “Nothing. You two are just cute, is all.”

Zayn accepts the compliment easily, not even thinking about the fact that the band is in on the secret, so Josh knows they aren’t really together. Josh leaves not long after, needing to prepare for the show undoubtedly.

Louis throws himself down in the vacated spot moments later. He shoots Liam a frustrated look, and then turns back to Zayn with a shake of his head. “Don’t know how you do it. He’s mental before a show.”

Zayn shrugs, arms tightening around Liam as he shifts again, slotting more firmly against Zayn. He wiggles, bum rubbing over Zayn’s crotch, and Zayn fights to keep the blush from his face under Louis’s observant gaze.

“It’s fine,” he says eventually, trying to keep Liam still without making it obvious that that’s what he’s doing. “I don’t mind.”

“Of course you don’t,” Louis rolls his eyes. Liam shifts again, pressing against Zayn’s cock in a way that is decidedly unfair, and Zayn has to bite his lip to keep in a moan. It’s been awhile since he’s gotten off with anything other than his hand, and awhile since he’s even done that really, what with he and Liam always sharing rooms. When Zayn gets himself under control (which takes a considerable amount of thought since Liam’s still firmly pressed against him), Louis’s smirking at him.

“Oh,” Louis’s eyes gleam. “No I don’t suppose you would mind if this is the result.”

“Shut up,” Zayn tries to snap, but Liam shifts again and Zayn’s voice goes tight halfway through the statement. Fuck, but it feels good, which of course only makes Zayn wince because Liam’s his mate, and he should not be getting a stiffy from this.

Louis laughs joyously, eyes flicking back and forth between Zayn and Liam. “Oi, Liam,” he calls.

“Lou –” Zayn’s not sure what he’s doing, but he knows he doesn’t like that look in Louis’s eyes.

Liam turns though. “Yeah, Louis? Something up?”

“Nah,” Louis shakes his head, still grinning like a mad man. “Just didn’t know you were a bottom is all.”

Zayn flushes hard immediately, and he doesn’t have to look at Liam to know that he does as well. Louis’s cackle is enough confirmation that they’re both now bright red.

“Christ, Lou,” Niall mutters, looking faintly green. “That is definitely not something I ever needed to think about.”

Louis just laughs harder. “Why not? Looks like they’re both enjoying the thought.”

Liam goes to move, like he’s going to get up, and Zayn should really let him. So he’s not entirely sure why he tightens his arms and refuses to let Liam up. Except that feels like admittance or letting Louis win, neither of which sound appealing to Zayn.

“Shove it, Lou,” he says calmly, still not looking at Liam, but his voice is composed now at least.

“Looks like you want to shove it, right up Liam’s arse,” Louis replies, cracking up like he’s the height of wit.

Zayn forces him not to react to that, knowing that Louis can’t possibly know how close he is to the truth at the moment. As far as Louis knows, Zayn’s not even interested in blokes, so he can’t possibly know that Zayn’s halfway to hard right now, barely hiding it from Liam. Louis genuinely thinks he’s just teasing, and Zayn’s determined to keep it that way.

“Clever,” he remarks dryly. Liam’s holding still finally, which is a small blessing because Zayn honestly probably couldn’t hold himself together if Liam kept moving on top of him like that. (And yeah, fine, so Louis’s thoughts have sparked some rather interesting ones in Zayn’s own mind, but he’s fighting those back. He can’t think of Liam hovering over him, naked and glistening, twisting his hips like he does onstage but this time on Zayn’s cock, his head thrown back, neck exposed like – Yeah, no. Zayn definitely can’t think about that right now).

Liam finally seems to snap out of his embarrassment. “Witty,” he adds, and then, “Besides, I’m not even a bottom.”

Zayn swears he sees white for a moment, fantasies that he’s definitely not entertaining taking an abrupt turn. (Liam bending him over the edge of a bed, his hands scrambling for purchase as Liam drives into him, holding him still for it with those hands – Fuck. Zayn knew he found Liam attractive, has done since the beginning, but this is definitely new).

Louis only cackles all the harder. “More of a top then? Can’t say I’m surprised. Ten-inch Payne and all.”

Zayn hates absolutely everything. He feels like he’s on fire, and he’s trying desperately to talk himself out of the sudden bout of lust that rocks over him. It’s ridiculous all of it, especially that stupid nickname. Like the fans could even possibly know how big Liam’s dick is –

He cuts that thought off abruptly. Best mates do _not_ think about each other’s dicks.

Liam shoots something back at Louis that Zayn doesn’t hear, and then thankfully Harry’s walking into the room.

“Harry,” Zayn calls immediately, interrupting whatever Louis and Liam are saying to each other now. “Will you please tell your boyfriend to stop talking about my boyfriend’s dick?”

He hears his slip up immediately, and for one heart-stopping moment the world slides underneath him, and he’s certain that he’s somehow just ruined everything. After all, Liam’s not his boyfriend, not in the way that Louis is Harry’s and –

But then Harry’s turning to Louis with a genuinely curious expression, and Louis’s scrambling to explain and defend himself simultaneously, and Niall’s already checked out of the conversation. Louis’s nearly shouting to be heard over the explanation that Liam’s launched into, one that involves Louis’s completely fabricated obsession with Liam’s cock, but it does the trick of absorbing everyone’s attention.

Nobody comments on Zayn’s slip up.

Zayn lets his breath out and slumps against Liam, forehead to the center of his spine.

He’s not sure why it all matters so much, why he’s so twisted up about every little thing, but it does and he is.

Fuck he is, and Zayn’s not sure what that means.

 

Of course, it all comes back to haunt Zayn later that night anyways.           

The show is long over, passing pleasantly enough though Zayn was distracted the entire time. He was jumpy anytime Liam touched him, even pulling away a few times, though he always went right back as soon as he saw the hurt expression on Liam’s face. It was just horribly awkward, and he knows that Liam felt it, could tell by the confusion and then the guilt on Liam’s face, like Liam was responsible for Zayn’s inability to look at him without thinking of him in bed.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

Louis’s words from earlier were stuck on loop in Zayn’s head, wreaking havoc with his libido and then his conscience. It’s just – even when Zayn had that small crush on Liam at the beginning of X Factor, he’d never actually thought about what Liam would be like in bed. Now, it’s all that he can think about.

And he hates himself for it.

There’s a definite line between thinking your mate is attractive, and thinking about fucking him, and somehow Zayn’s firmly crossed that line.

He’s tossing and turning, unable to go to sleep because he’s rock hard thinking about how great of a fuck his best mate might be. Which is bad enough, but to make matters worse it’s a hotel night tonight. So not only is Zayn going mad with intrusive thoughts of Liam in bed, but Liam is actually, physically in bed with him.

He’s sprawled over the other half of the bed, deeply asleep because he’s not having horrible, dirty thoughts about his best mate.

His proximity isn’t helping Zayn at all honestly, but he couldn’t think of a way to not share a room with Liam tonight without drawing attention. And of course, it just had to be a room with only one bed. Of course.

Zayn’s honestly about two seconds from just getting up and having a quiet wank in the loo when Liam turns over and then huffs in his sleep. He frowns, and then suddenly he’s clearly waking up, body twitching as he blinks a few times. Zayn’s completely frozen as Liam turns his head to stare at Zayn blearily.

“Z?” his voice is gruff from sleep, and fuck Zayn’s life. He curls tighter into himself, glad he happened to be laying on his side when Liam woke up so that his hard on isn’t completely obvious.

“What’re you doing up?” Liam asks sleepily. “And why’re you all the way over there?”

It’s a fair question. Ever since that first night at Liam’s parents’ home, any time he and Liam had to share a bed they skipped all the awkwardness and just cuddled up together. It wasn’t like they wouldn’t have gravitated towards each other in the night anyways, so they just skipped the entire process and went to bed pressed together.

But Zayn can’t do that tonight, for obvious reasons.

“Can’t sleep,” Zayn stutters out finally when it’s clear that Liam’s not just going to go back to sleep.

Liam smiles softly at him and then holds out an arm, inviting Zayn in. “Come ‘ere then.”

“Uh,” Zayn can’t think of a single reason why he shouldn’t of course, no lies appearing, just the truth, and he definitely can’t tell Liam the truth. That’s just – No. He can’t. There are lines, lines that Zayn keeps crossing, and he shouldn’t.

But then, Zayn’s watching in horror as Liam shifts towards him. One hand wraps around his wrist and gives a firm tug, and Zayn can only watch in what feels like slow-motion as he and Liam roll together. They both freeze when Zayn’s pelvis comes into contact with Liam’s hip, the unmistakable line of Zayn’s cock pressed firmly between them.

If Zayn had any hope that Liam somehow wouldn’t feel his hard on, it’s crushed when Liam lets out a startled, “Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” Zayn mumbles. He squeezes his eyes closed as he lets his forehead hit Liam’s shoulder, hard. They’re pressed completely against each other, but Zayn doesn’t pull away. No point when his secret is already out there. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t –”

“Um, no,” Liam cuts him off, voice high with some emotion that Zayn’s sure is actually mortification. “No, I mean, that’s – it’s normal, right? To get a stiffy, I mean. It’s um, we haven’t really had time alone in a while so that’s just –”

“Leeyum,” Zayn groans out, startled by the whine in his own voice. Fuck, he hadn’t meant that to sound so sexual. His eyes blink open, and he lifts his head away from Liam’s shoulder, refusing to look at him. “Shit,” he sighs, then goes to push away. “Let me just go to the bathroom, I’ll –”

Liam stops him with the hand still wrapped tightly around his wrist. Zayn blinks dumbly down at him, mystified by the blush on Liam’s cheeks and the way he’s biting at his bottom lip. Surprisingly, Liam holds his gaze, even as he says, “You don’t have to go.”

Zayn looks pointedly at his lap. “Uh, mate, I really do actually.” Because his cock is still pressing obscenely against his joggers, and he’s ridiculously turned on, and it’s not going to go away until Zayn does something about it.

Liam flushes harder but shakes his head. “That’s not um, that’s not what I meant. You could – I mean you could just stay here and –”

“I’m not wanking with you in the room,” Zayn nearly snaps, and then flinches slightly for it. He’s just – it’s not like none of them have gotten off on the bus where there’s really no privacy, when they know the others can hear, but this is definitely different, much different.

“No, I meant – shit, just,” Liam stumbles over his words and then apparently gives up. “Just – fuck it.”

Zayn yelps when Liam shifts them both, knocking Zayn to his back so that Liam’s hovering on his forearms above him. Everything in his vision is Liam, and Zayn can’t stop his eyes from tracing the tan skin of Liam’s chest down to where the sheet still covers them both. Liam’s pressed more firmly against him now, legs tangled, and it’s not helping Zayn at all.

It feels amazing, but as soon as Zayn realizes what he’s doing, he snaps his eyes back up to Liam’s. “Fuck. Damn it, Liam, what –”

“Let me get you off.”

Zayn’s brain stops working. It just completely shuts down, refusing to even attempt to translate whatever Liam just said, because clearly Zayn heard him wrong.

The bright red of Liam’s cheeks belies that though. “Shit, I just meant – like, you’re hard so I could...” he trails off.

Zayn has to force himself to breathe, to think. Of course that barely helps, and he finds himself saying, slowly, “Liam, are you offering me a hand job?” And his voice is incredulous because Liam has to be joking, right?

But Liam’s brown eyes are serious as he looks down at Zayn. “If you want,” he nearly whispers, looking ashamed, of all things.

And Zayn just – he doesn’t even know what’s happening really. A startled laugh leaves his throat, and Liam flinches. Zayn doesn’t have time to feel bad about that though, already rambling, “Fuck, Liam, you don’t have to – Look, just because I got hard in bed with you doesn’t mean –”

“No,” Liam cuts him off, eyes finally downcast, and his voice sounds terribly small. “I know it’s got nothing to do with me but –”

“No, Liam,” Zayn interrupts because fuck, that is not at all what he was saying. (Especially because it has everything to do with Liam). “I just don’t want you to think you like owe me or something.” It sounds ridiculous, even as he says it, so Zayn’s not surprised when Liam cracks a smile as he looks back at him.

“That’s not why I offered.”

“Oh.” Zayn’s brow furrows, and he should probably ask why exactly Liam offered then – because hand jobs definitely aren’t something you just offer your mate – when Zayn’s suddenly very aware of the pressure of Liam’s fingers against him.

His hand is pressing just in between Zayn’s ribcage, fingers slowly sliding downward. Zayn gapes at him, and Liam’s looking at him, clearly waiting for a rebuttal, but Zayn can’t say a damn thing. He’s consumed by the feel of Liam’s hand on his bare skin, brushing lower and lower as Zayn doesn’t stop him. Liam clearly takes that as his answer – not that Zayn’s complaining, especially not when Liam’s fingers hit the waistband of his joggers. Zayn’s cock jumps as Liam hesitates for just a moment, giving Zayn time to back out.

Zayn couldn’t even if he wanted to, and he really, really doesn’t want to. Every reason not to let Liam do this is gone, and Zayn just – fuck, he just _wants._

Liam’s hand is around his cock before Zayn even feels it slide under the material, and Zayn’s a bit embarrassed by how strong his reaction is. He arches up into the touch immediately, breath gasping out of his lungs. Liam’s lips twist into something like a smirk, and then his hand tightens, pumping Zayn slowly.

“Shit,” Zayn hiccups. His mind is foggy, but he’s aware. He knows that it’s Liam’s hand on his dick, knows that Liam’s about to get him off. He doesn’t stop it though. In fact, he desperately wants the opposite.

“Yeah?” Liam asks, like he has to be sure.

Zayn nearly chokes on a laugh, knowing he should say no but unable to. “Yes,” he sighs out, giving in. “Fuck, yes, Liam –”

But Liam doesn’t need any more encouragement. His fist is pumping between Zayn’s inhale and exhale, startling Zayn into a short whine. It only seems to encourage Liam who tugs Zayn’s joggers down for easier access and swipes his thumb over the slit, collecting precome and smearing it down Zayn’s shaft with quick fingers. The slide gets easier, Liam’s rough palm a contrast to anything Zayn’s ever felt, and fuck, Zayn’s nearly gasping with it.

“Fuck,” Liam breathes out, watching the shift of his hand, and it’s crowded what with Liam half-laying on top of him, but Zayn doesn’t care. Doesn’t care at all that Liam’s watching his cock disappear in the circle of his hand because shit, it feels so good. Liam clearly knows what he’s doing, breath hitching almost in time with Zayn’s as he speeds up. “You look so good Zayn, so hard and –”

“Liam,” Zayn cuts him off, back arching and eyes clamping shut because he can’t. He can’t listen to Liam and watch him and last. He’s ridiculously close to the edge already, and it’s embarrassing how fast this is going to be over, but Zayn’s control is shot.

“Sorry,” Liam mumbles, voice deep. “I just – shit you feel so good.”

Zayn ruts up into him, seeking more friction and bumping their bodies together. He nearly freezes when he feels a hardness pressed to the crevice of his leg and pelvis. Liam’s hard, he realizes quite suddenly, just as hard as Zayn. Zayn shifts his hips again, intentional this time in a way he wasn’t before, and he’s rewarded by the slight hiss Liam just can’t hold back.

“Zayn,” and now Liam’s voice is holding a firm warning, but Zayn’s past that. They’ve already crossed the line, and clearly Liam’s aroused.

“Let me,” he breathes, dark eyes firmly meeting Liam’s. Liam noticeably gulps, hand almost stilling on Zayn until Zayn whines. He jerks him again, fingers tracing the thick vein along the bottom, and Zayn has to bite his lip to keep a moan buried.

“You don’t have to,” Liam mumbles.

Zayn ignores him. His hand is tracing the line of Liam’s pants and then diving beneath to grip firmly at Liam’s cock. The gasp Liam releases is worth it, his forehead falling to Zayn’s chest. A string of curses puffs past his lips, making Zayn shake with the contrast of cool breath on his heated skin. His eyes slip closed as he plants his feet and pushes up.

It’s horribly uncoordinated, a collision of hips with their hands still trapped between them, and every time Zayn shifts their rhythms falter, but Zayn keeps going, egged on by the hitch in Liam’s breath every time. He’s nearly squirming beneath Liam, flushed and so close. His eyes open again to watch the flex of Liam’s forearm, entrancing from this angle. Words are falling off his tongue, a slew of Liam’s name and so close and please and –

Liam twists his wrist just so, and Zayn’s gone.

He arches almost painfully into Liam, his own hand squeezing tightly around Liam’s cock as his rhythm falters once more. It hardly matters though, Liam gasping as he comes right along with Zayn, lips pressed firmly to the center of Zayn’s chest.

They lay there for a moment, both trying to even out their breathing, and Zayn lets his eyes fall shut once more. His fingers itch to trace through Liam’s hair but that suddenly feels too intimate. Too intimate when seconds ago Zayn had his hand around Liam’s cock and shit. They didn’t just cross a line; they fucking sprinted over it.

When Liam lifts himself up, Zayn doesn’t fight him, just watching as Liam settles back on his haunches.

Liam uses a corner of the sheet to wipe them both down, not meeting Zayn’s eyes as he does so. Zayn only moves when Liam pulls up his pants, Zayn pulling up his joggers in the next moment. There’s an endless stretch of silence between them, and then Liam’s laying back down beside Zayn with a sleepy grin.

“Good?” his brown eyes are light, but he seems genuinely concerned that it wasn’t.

“Yeah,” Zayn breathes out, afraid to admit just how good that actually was. There’s a nervous edge underneath everything, and Zayn thinks that something has probably changed now because you can’t just get your mate off, right? Like, that changes things.

Liam grins though, and then eases his arms around Zayn, guiding him into an embrace that’s familiar by this point. Zayn goes willingly, letting Liam roll them away from the messy part of the sheet and settle them down.

Exhaustion hits him, and Zayn thinks that it’s probably a horrible idea to go to sleep without talking about this, but sleep wins out, especially when Liam nuzzles his nose to the back of Zayn’s neck and whispers, “Just go t’ sleep, babe.”

And Zayn’s never been able to deny Liam anything.

 

They don’t talk about it after that, and Zayn’s extremely surprised by how normal it is. Nothing’s awkward between them, and Liam doesn’t pull away like Zayn half-expects him to. Even the morning immediately after isn’t awkward, Zayn waking up to Liam coming back from the gym, sweaty but smiling and offering to order Zayn room service. Zayn ignores the twist of arousal in his belly at the sight of Liam’s flushed chest (answering the question of whether or not his sudden sexual attraction to Liam was a one-off) and agrees easily. They eat together, and Zayn even laughs when Liam flicks soggy cereal at him.

And it’s – it’s just normal.

So Zayn pushes his doubts from his mind.

 

It takes a few days for Zayn to notice that it actually has changed. His and Liam’s dynamic has shifted, in an almost imperceptible way. He’s not sure what tips him off exactly, what clues him in, but they’re onstage when Liam throws a casual arm over Zayn’s shoulders. Their fans go wild, of course, and Zayn looks up to grin with Liam over it like they always do, but Liam’s not looking at him.

Liam’s looking out at the crowd, singing his parts on cue, and he’s not paying the slightest bit of actual attention to Zayn. For some reason, it sparks a light in Zayn’s mind, and suddenly he’s thinking over the last few days of their interactions. Something like hurt races through him when he realizes that Liam’s gestures have been empty of the usual affection. Sure, he’s been keeping up the charade, but the touches have all had an almost clinical feel to them, like Liam’s doing them only because he’s meant to.

And it contrasts so sharply with the way they usually are, because Zayn’s looked over old footage of them together, and their fans are right. The way he and Liam normally interact is different. It’s intense normally, eyes meeting and holding, fingers digging in, bodies pressed tight together, but it hasn’t been like that for the past couple of days. It’s been the same gestures but lacking everything underneath.

Zayn’s not quite sure why that matters so much, why it hurts that Liam’s only touching him because he has to, but it does.

It also spikes a recklessness in Zayn that he can’t control.

He’s turning towards Liam without a second thought, song drawing to a close, and Liam looks at him. His brown eyes are curious but blank, no laughter behind them, no warm affection, and Zayn just wants a reaction. He just wants Liam to actually look at him like he’s seeing him.

So he tackles Liam.

All of the lads rough house, but Zayn almost always stays out of it, and even when he does join in, it’s never with Liam. Zayn’s never really thought about that before, but it crosses his mind when he registers the pure shock on Liam’s face right before they smack into the stage.

Louis’s staring at them in surprise, but Zayn focuses on Liam, who he’s mostly sprawled on top of. Liam’s just gaping at him, and Zayn hates it, hates that Liam’s still barely reacting to him.

“Come on, Liam,” he taunts, shoving at Liam’s shoulders and making as if to scramble away. He can feel a dangerous smile curling at the corners of his mouth, and he’s not sure what he looks like right now, but he figures unhinged would be a fair bet.

Whatever he looks like, it clearly gets Liam’s attention. With a startled blink, Liam’s eyes clear and then focus, and Zayn breathes out in relief because finally. Liam’s finally _looking_ at him again. He’s taken completely by surprise then when Liam flips them.

Zayn’s back hits the stage rather hard, knocking the air from his lungs, but he’s completely entranced by the laughter falling freely from Liam’s mouth.

“Bring it on, Bradford bad boy,” Liam smirks.

Zayn’s eyes narrow and fuck Liam for not letting that go, he was young damn it. But fine, if that’s how Liam wants to play it. Zayn hooks a leg around one of Liam’s and turns them, so he’s on top again. Liam rolls with the move, and suddenly they’re truly wresting across the stage, the other boys watching them with amusement.

They’re surprisingly well matched, Zayn thinks, but he’s still not surprised when Liam manages to pin him only moments later. Liam’s laughing, whole body shaking with it, and they’re pressed together, legs entangled. Zayn laughs along with Liam, fingers clinging to the material covering Liam’s shoulders.

All of the distance is gone from Liam’s gaze as the lights suddenly go down, and Zayn completely forgot about the show going on around them, but he really doesn’t care. He and Liam are entangled in the near-dark, their laughter finally slowing down, and Zayn feels muscles he didn’t know were tense relax. Liam rests his head against Zayn’s neck, laughing still, and everything feels right again.

Zayn’s not really surprised when Liam presses a gentle kiss to Zayn’s neck and Zayn –

He feels _proud,_ like he’s managed to accomplish something here.

 

“Fuck, you two are sickening.”

Liam flicks Andy off without even looking up, dropping his phone to do so because his other fingers are entangled with Zayn’s currently. Which is, judging by the happily nauseated expression on Andy’s face, what he was complaining about. Liam scoops his phone back up and continues playing his game without worry, so Zayn just grins and shrugs at Andy, dancing his fingers over Liam’s without hesitation even as Andy slumps into the desk chair nearby.

He’d been a bit worried when Liam had told him that Andy was coming along for the next handful of shows, but honestly, it’s easier. With Andy around, Liam and Zayn have to keep the charade up at all times, and it’s just simpler, keeping the same level of affection no matter who they’re around. Zayn doesn’t have to abort all of those little gestures he kept barely catching himself doing, like running his fingers through Liam’s loose hair or trailing his hand over Liam’s back in passing, just little things Zayn’s always done in relationships that come so damn naturally with Liam.

Honestly, it’s easier to press a kiss to Liam’s forehead or cheek or nose in greeting every time Zayn walks into a room he’s already in. It’s easier to relax into Liam’s familiar hold on couches and beds and armchairs. It’s easier to tangle their fingers together when they’re waiting for their interviewer, like now.

And the other lads might be giving them shit for it (Louis’s memorable, ‘Fuck Liam, just take him off and shag him if you’re going to be pressed that close’ echoes in his head) but Liam shrugs it off, so Zayn follows his lead, as he’s been doing since the beginning of this thing. And he tries not to feel guilty that he’s grateful Andy is around so he can pretend all the time without worry; it’s incredibly selfish and _dangerous_ but well – Zayn just doesn’t care. There’s no reason to care when everything comes as easy as breathing, and he and Liam are both happy.

“Seriously,” Andy continues, his words completely contradicted by the smile on his face. “You two are laid up on bed next to each other in your _shared_ hotel room. Do you really need to be holding hands as well?”

In response, Liam tangles their fingers tighter and pulls Zayn’s hand up to his face to press a wet kiss to the back. Zayn huffs a laugh and shoves his shoulder into Liam but doesn’t bother trying to pull away.

After two months he’s learned better than to try and deny Liam’s overflowing affection. In fact, he sort of craves it now, possibly sought Liam out three days ago after only an hour alone because he felt cold without him in a way that he hasn’t since his last relationship.

And that’s –

Zayn’s trying not to think about how being with Liam like this feels a lot like that these days. How he’s struggling to spot the differences anymore. How yesterday he thumbed ignore on a call from Perrie (her fourth) without any hesitation and he’d felt fine afterward because Liam had been right there, grinning at him dumbly. It’s just – it’s too confusing if Zayn starts thinking about it, and he’s not entirely sure he ever actually got over Perrie the way he was meant to because he launched into this thing with Liam, and Liam did the same.

So he just –

He relaxes into it, like he relaxes into messy beds on Sunday afternoons because that’s what Liam reminds him of. Liam’s uncomplicated in ways Zayn’s life so rarely is these days, and he knows that it’s mostly because management actually approves of this in an entirely fucked up way but he doesn’t particularly care about the details. Not when Liam smiles like yellow sunshine and curls up to Zayn like he craves the closeness too.

“Sickening,” Andy repeats. “You two can’t possibly stay like that during the interview.”

“Why not?” Liam mumbles, face crinkled in concentration as he focuses on his game, and Zayn tries desperately not to find that cute. (He does though because Liam takes his games so damn seriously).

Andy shoots Zayn a smug look that makes Zayn shift uncomfortably. “You two on a bed? Bit too suggestive for your average fan, don’t you think? All those thirteen year old girls –”

Liam snorts. “Shut up, man. Besides, management asks us to play up the relationship, and it’s our first interview since the premiere, yeah?”

Zayn’s gut tightens, which is idiotic because Liam’s right. Management specifically asked for Liam and Zayn to be interviewed without the others in their hotel room, forever pushing this relationship angle that’s frankly playing out much better than anyone expected. So what if they’re only pressed together on this bed to play up to that? It’s the point. Zayn shouldn’t care.

Andy just laughs though. “Yeah, sure mate. Like you’re not taking advantage of this.”

Liam just grins, finally closing his game out. He shoots Andy a smug look that he’s definitely learned from Louis, one that says ‘so what if I am’ and presses even closer. Zayn responds instinctively. Andy rolls his eyes, and then he and Liam trade barbs until the interviewer comes in, smiling shyly.

Zayn and Liam actually do stay in the same position for the interview, which is supposed to feel like intimate or something, anyways, so Zayn figures they’re just following orders. Andy stays in the desk chair, just off-camera, and pretends to gag anytime Zayn and Liam do anything even remotely intimate, like look at each other.

The interviewer doesn’t really ask them about their relationship since this is meant to be just a bit of promotion, but as the interview is drawing to a close she does ask about songs they dance to.

Zayn’s answering without much thought, a grin on his face because he can so easily see Liam dancing around their rooms, on the bus, backstage, anywhere really, with a wild grin on his face and careless of how he looks, brown eyes gleaming. The answers just trip off his tongue, listing all of the songs he can so clearly remember Liam shuffling around to, and the memories are so clear because half the time Liam was doing it just to make Zayn laugh, he knows.

“...and now it’s probably that Frank Ocean track,” he finishes, blinking owlish eyes at a gaping Liam, and oh. That was quite a bit, Zayn realizes, maybe too much.

But then Liam’s holding out his hand for a high five, saying, “Well done” and he keeps Zayn’s hand in his afterward, warm skin against warm skin as the interviewer draws their conversation to a close. Zayn can’t help from seeing Andy smirking hard at them though, and Liam fidgets on the bed beside him as the interviewer makes closing remarks, and Zayn just knows that he’s done something stupid.

Sure enough, as soon as the interviewer leaves, Andy’s bursting out into laughter.

Liam glares at him and then shuffles off with a mumbled, “Bathroom,” thrown over his shoulder. Zayn’s hand twitches when Liam withdraws, and he watches Liam go. Andy just laughs harder, and Zayn stares at him in confusion until he gets himself under control.

“What?” Zayn demands, prickly because he’s not actually all that close to Andy, and he has that horrible feeling in the pit of his gut, the one he remembers from school, the one that lets you know that you’re being laughed at and not with.

Andy wipes at his eyes, the dramatic fucker, but his smile turns a bit kinder. “I’m laughing at Liam. That poor bastard. I think you took him by surprise.”

“What?”

Andy just shrugs. “Don’t worry about it, man. I’m just glad that you clearly love that idiot as much as he loves you. Never thought it was possible, not when he’s been into you since forever. Realized it after your birthday, the first one Liam celebrated with you, y’know.”

Zayn just blinks at him, confused.

Andy’s eyes widen, but his lips twitch like he’s still amused by all of this. “Don’t you remember, the one where he bought you all that shit and rambled on about it on camera for like ten minutes? I mean, I don’t think he knew back then, but that’s definitely when I realized that he was into you. He’s always been a bit in love with you, ever since man.”

Zayn does remember that birthday, remembers distinctly how amazed he was that Liam had spent so much thought on his gift, but the rest of Andy’s confession makes no sense. Because that birthday – that was ages ago. “No,” he denies instantly, shaking his head. “You’re wrong, mate. He wasn’t into me, not back then.” _Not now either,_ but Zayn bites that back with an unsettled feeling in his chest.

Andy rolls his eyes. “Why am I not surprised that you don’t see it either? Christ knows he didn’t, had no idea he was into you until the beginning of august, when you guys were about to head back. Can you believe that the tosser called me up, babbling about how he’d started fancying you and didn’t know what to do about it? Like it was new or something.”

“I – it was though,” Zayn tries, head spinning because the beginning of august – before Liam and Danielle broke up, before this whole stunt started. It was _before._ Before the lie, and Zayn wants to ask for the exact date Andy’s thinking of, but he’s too busy trying to figure out how to keep the lie going with Andy, to keep their story consistent because they’ve worked so hard at it. And Andy has to have his dates wrong, anyways, because what he’s saying now isn’t part of their official narrative, not that he can argue that with Andy.

“Sure it was,” Andy shrugs, winking like he’s in on Zayn’s joke. Except, Zayn’s not joking. He’s never felt less amused in his life. “Anyways, he was a right mess. So, I told him to break it off with Dani, because as much as I liked her, they were never quite right together, not like you two. Was surprised when he listened though. Li never listens to my advice.”

“Your advice about what?” Liam’s standing in the doorway of the in suite bathroom, frowning at Andy, and Zayn’s throat feels terribly dry as he stares at Liam. Liam, who’s wiping his hands on his jeans, material stretched tight over his thighs, and he looks great, Zayn thinks with an edge of hysteria. Liam looks amazing, and Zayn doesn’t know why that feels relevant right now. He’s on the cusp of a realization though; he can feel it, but he just doesn’t know quite what it is yet.

“About relationships,” Andy laughs. “I was just telling Zayn about how much of a mess you were in July, in love with him and hopeless about it. I’m right chuffed you listened to me about breaking it off with Dani though and got with him. You and Zayn just like, fit, yeah?”

And Zayn – he wasn’t really putting much stock in what Andy was saying up until this point. Because it’s Andy, and he might be Liam’s best mate but Zayn’s always thought he was a bit dense. So, Zayn wasn’t really listening to him, but now – now Zayn is.

Liam’s face drains of color as soon as Andy finishes speaking, and he gapes at Zayn with something like fear in his eyes. And it’s so, so obvious that Andy’s telling the truth, which means that Liam really did call Andy at the beginning of august.

It means that Liam really does fancy Zayn.

Zayn can’t think.

“I –” Liam’s voice catches as he stares at them both. “Fuck, Andy. What the hell, man?”

And Andy, oblivious and careless, laughs. He looks back and forth between Zayn’s probably stricken face, and Liam’s horrified one, and he clearly comes to the wrong conclusion. “Did I blow your cover, Li? Didn’t want Zaynie here to know how mad you were for him before you two got together? Like it wasn’t obvious to the entire world, mate. The way you two look at each other.”

“Andy –” Liam hisses, eyes still fixed on Zayn’s face, even as he flushes bright red. “Dude, shut up.”

Andy raises his hands in surrender, getting up and walking out. He claps Liam’s shoulder just before he disappears into the hallway with a, “I’ll just give you two some time then, shall I?”

Liam backs up into the nearest wall, wide eyes glued to Zayn like Zayn’s dangerous to his person, like he needs to watch him, like he’s waiting for Zayn to strike. He doesn’t even try to say anything, and that’s what really confirms it for Zayn. Liam doesn’t even try to deny it, and Zayn just knows.

Liam likes him.

Liam has liked him since the beginning of this pretend relationship, since before that even. Since the beginning of August, and Zayn immediately understands the significance of that.

The show in Vegas will forever be seared into his mind. Hell, he and Liam have avoided discussing it really because they never talked about it afterwards. They moved past it, sure, but they never addressed it.

Because it made no sense really. Zayn can admit that now. All of it was out of control, from his absolute hatred for Danielle in that moment, the way he couldn’t stomach her presence there, to how he had just advised Liam to break up with her. He fucked up his hand at that show, punched a wall, because he hated the fact that his best mate was with a girl who just so clearly wasn’t for him. He ignored Liam onstage afterwards too, and he knows that their fans have since clung to that show, cited it as the beginnings of his and Liam’s relationship and –

And, for the first time, Zayn understands why all of the others skirted around him and Liam after that, understands why he and Liam received all of the odd looks they did, understands why exactly their fans have all focused on that performance.

Because Zayn was jealous.

It’s so glaringly obvious to him now, though he honestly had no idea as it was happening. He was jealous. He was jealous, and afterwards – when Liam sang to him, when Liam cornered him after the show, when they spent that night hanging out together in Zayn’s room like an apology because Danielle had left – Liam realized he liked Zayn.

Liam likes Zayn.

And it isn’t really a revelation that Zayn likes Liam.

It doesn’t feel like something he’s just realized, but more like something he’s forgotten and just remembered. Like, Zayn’s really liked Liam since X Factor, like that crush never went away but just went under, fell beneath everything else until Zayn forgot about it. But it was still there. It feels like it’s always been there, just waiting for one of them to acknowledge it and –

 _Wow_ , Zayn thinks. Wow, he and Liam are idiots. Wow, they’re dense. Wow, they like each other.

So Zayn slides off the bed without a word, eyes firmly affixed to Liam, and he walks slowly towards him.

Liam flinches, and now he starts babbling. “I’m so sorry, Zayn. Honestly, I don’t know – Andy’s not sure what he’s talking about. It wasn’t like that. I never called him to – It’s nonsense. And – and I know that you don’t like lads regardless so –”

Zayn stops when he’s only a few centimeters from Liam. His fingers reach out and press hesitantly into Liam’s chest, like he just wants to feel him, and Liam’s mouth snaps shut as he shudders on a breath. “When I was sixteen,” Zayn says casually, calmly, “I snogged this bloke from my English class. Wasn’t really sure why, at the time, but afterwards I just knew. Never really had time to do anything about it though, because after that I went on X Factor and... well.”

“What?” Liam gasps, and when Zayn dares to look up, he’s gazing at him with wide eyes, plush lips parted in surprise. “You – I – You’re straight!”

Zayn nearly laughs, but he bites his lip to still it. “I’m not.”

“But you never –”

“I know.” Zayn takes another step closer, so his feet are between Liam’s. They’re nearly pressed together now, and Zayn wants it. He wants to feel every meter of Liam pressed to him, but he figures that Liam deserves to know this first. “I never told you lot, and I should have. Just could never find the right time to do it, y’know? And then, well it hardly seemed to matter when Perrie was around.”

Neither of them react to Perrie’s name and that’s – it’s definitely significant, but Zayn’s more focused on watching Liam’s reaction. He looks like he can’t absorb it, like he desperately wants to but just can’t. His brow is furrowed and for the first time, Zayn doesn’t stop himself from reaching out and smoothing it with a gentle touch.

Liam grabs his hand and holds it close, meeting Zayn’s eyes. “You fancy lads?” he demands. “Zayn, you like guys, too?”

Zayn smiles, bright and amused, but he gets it. He understands why Liam needs it to be clearly stated. “I do.”

Liam’s head slumps back, smacking into the wall, and he just – “Thank God.”

That startles a laugh out of Zayn, which makes Liam look at him. All of the tension flees as they grin at each other, barely keeping back full laughter. It feels lighter, like all of the seriousness has fled, and Zayn thinks that it feels right. It feels like him and Liam.

“Yeah?” he teases, smirking.

“Yeah,” Liam sighs out, smile fading, but his eyes remain earnest. “Christ, Zayn, I just – I was going mad, man. These past three months, touching you and wanting – You don’t even know. I just – I fancy the shit out of you, y’know? I –”

Zayn cuts him off with a desperate kiss. He clips Liam’s bottom lip with his teeth, and then bites when Liam’s breath hitches. Liam groans into his mouth, and their feet shuffle for half a moment until their bodies align more firmly. Zayn presses hard into the concaves of Liam’s body, the spaces where he just seems to fit, and fuck, it’s not like he hadn’t noticed when they were cuddling, but this feels so much better.

Liam’s firm underneath him, muscle where Zayn’s used to softness, and shit, it feels wonderful. His fingers are strong, firm as they release Zayn’s hand and cup his hips instead, bringing their pelvises into contact, and Zayn can’t help the way he hitches his hips. Liam responds, so beautifully vocal, and they’re grinding against the wall before Zayn can think about it. He’s never done this before, any of it, nothing beyond that short snog with a boy when he was sixteen, but fuck, he wants to do so much more with Liam

The thought overtakes his mind as Liam’s tongue overtakes his mouth. He’s warm and demanding in a way that girls so rarely are, and Zayn’s head rushes with it. His hands come up to grip the back of Liam’s neck, his jaw too so Zayn can control the angle of the kiss.

When Zayn breaks away to kiss roughly at Liam’s jaw, stubble catching on his lips in a tantalizingly new way, Liam’s breathing stutters, his hips rolling up, and Zayn can feel that he’s on his way to hard.

“Fuck, Zayn –” his voice cracks halfway through Zayn’s name, and Zayn just wants to hear that again, wants to hear Liam call his name like that.

He doesn’t even really think before he slides to his knees, Liam’s hands dragging up his shirt because he was clearly unprepared. Zayn retaliates by hitching Liam’s shirt up, and the trail of hair just below Liam’s navel is eye-level, so Zayn really can’t be blamed for leaning forward to kiss it.

“Zayn,” Liam’s voice is almost entirely surprise, but Zayn hears the warning in it too. He ignores it, blood thrumming, and he wants this. He definitely wants this. “Zayn,” Liam tries again when Zayn moves to the side to nip just above Liam’s waistband. “Fuck, Z, seriously, Lou’s stuff is still in the bathroom, and that interviewer could come back, and I’m pretty sure we have other things to do today so –”

“So we’d better be quick then,” Zayn murmurs into Liam’s skin. “Wouldn’t want one of the lads to come in to your cock down my throat.”

The hiss Liam releases echoes loudly, and Zayn really can’t help his pleased smirk. When he glances up at Liam through his eyelashes, Liam is just gaping at him, like he hasn’t got a clue what to say.

But Zayn thinks he knows where Liam’s hesitation is coming from, and it’s unnecessary. Zayn’s nearly hard in his own trousers, and he wants this. “Liam, babe,” he pleads. “Wanna blow you.” He keeps his eyes trained on Liam, but his breath hits Liam’s clothed cock, and he swears he sees the fabric twitch in the bottom of his vision.

Liam’s eyes dilate noticeably, and he swallows, hard. “You don’t – don’t have to. Seriously, we can just –”

Zayn promptly ignores him because Liam isn’t actually saying no. He pops the button on his trousers, and then waits for Liam to say something, but he doesn’t. Zayn grins up at him, triumphant, as he tugs the zip down and then shifts the material. Liam’s just staring at him, looking lost and hopelessly turned on, and Zayn kind of thinks he wants Liam like this always. His cheeks are flushed, eyes blown, and his lips are sinfully red from where he keeps biting at them.

Zayn turns back to Liam’s cock, eye-level, and his heart races. He’s never done this before, obviously, but he’s watched enough gay porn. It might be unrealistic, but he understands the principles, and he knows what he likes. So without hesitating, Zayn drags down Liam’s black briefs too. Liam’s dick slaps up, and Zayn’s not even sure when Liam got fully hard, but he’s not complaining.

In fact, he’s nearly speechless, and he hates that Louis’s voice is what pops into his head but – _Ten inch Payno._ And okay, yeah that’s just ridiculous, but Liam’s big. Thick in ways Zayn wasn’t really prepared for, even though he’d had a vague idea that Liam was well-endowed. Unconsciously, Zayn licks his lips, and Liam groans. His head thumps back against the wall again, and Zayn cocks an eyebrow at him.

“You look...” Liam tries, but shakes his head like he can’t even finish.

Zayn smirks again, and he swears he’s never been this arrogant in bed before, and he and Liam aren’t even in bed. Fuck, and that’s something that Zayn definitely doesn’t need to think about right now.

So he distracts himself by grasping Liam’s cock firmly and pumping experimentally. The low rumble that vibrates in Liam’s chest makes Zayn’s dick twitch in the confines of his trousers. He groans, and then, before he can overthink it, leans forward and licks a firm stripe up the vein on the underside of Liam’s cock.

It’s different, but not bad, and Zayn carefully wraps his lips around the head without warning. Liam cuts off a whine, hands nearly digging into the wall behind him, fingers curving as Zayn pulls back the foreskin with his hand and tentatively licks at the head. Liam’s hands spasm, almost moving forward as Zayn does it again like Liam wants –

Zayn pulls back immediately. His voice is deeper when he says, “You can put your hands in my hair.”

Liam gapes at him, and Zayn gets it. It’s like the running joke of the band that Zayn doesn’t want anyone to touch his hair after it’s done, but like, Zayn really doesn’t care at the moment. In fact, he kind of wants Liam to tangle his fingers in his hair, maybe tug a little and –

One of Liam’s hands wraps around the back of Zayn’s neck hesitantly, and the other hand reaches forward so Liam can bury his fingers in Zayn’s messy do, working through the simple styling Lou did earlier with ease.

Zayn hums his approval, and then immediately sets back to sucking Liam’s dick. He stretches his mouth around the head again, tonguing just under it until he finds that cluster of nerves that makes him go wild. Liam’s hips twitch, but he stays relatively still, and Zayn’s grateful. As much as he’d like Liam to fuck his throat (and he thinks that he actually really, really would) he knows he’s nowhere near ready for that.

For all his talk about hurrying, Zayn moves slow, letting himself adjust, and Liam lets him. He uses his spit to slick his hand and pumps the length he can’t reach, carefully bobbing his head in time, and Liam reacts beautifully, back arching and bitten-off groans on his lips. It urges Zayn on until he’s moving faster, going further until Liam hits the soft back of his throat, and he nearly gags. He fights the urge back, tonguing at the vein again as he pulls back to the head, and then repeats his movements.

It’s different than going down on a girl, much different, but Zayn finds that he doesn’t mind it. He might actually even like it, his dick pulsing every time Liam can’t hold back a small noise. And that’s it really, when Zayn looks up at Liam – head thrown back, throat working like he can’t catch his breath, fingers twitching where they press against Zayn – he gets a rush. It feels good to know that he’s doing this for Liam, that Liam feels this good because of Zayn.

Zayn moves faster, and it gets sloppier, uncoordinated because Zayn’s unpracticed, but Liam doesn’t complain. In fact, he seems to be fighting the urge to move even more than before.

“Zayn,” he gasps, when Zayn curiously swallows with Liam pressed as far back as he can take him. Zayn does it again, and then again when Liam shudders, like he’s nearly there. “Fuck, I can’t – stop doing that or I won’t be able to – someone’s going to hear.”

The whine that Zayn releases around Liam’s cock surprises them both, and their eyes lock. Liam’s are blown with arousal, and Zayn’s dick is painfully hard in his trousers.

“Fuck,” Liam repeats, and Zayn’s never heard him curse so much in his life. “You like that, don’t you? Like the idea of someone hearing?”

Zayn very obviously reacts to that, and he can’t hide it. But Liam just looks even more turned on, so he doesn’t really mind.

After that, it’s like Liam’s reservations are gone, and he’s loud. Not obnoxiously so and not overly-dramatic, but every noise he was biting back before, he lets out. It’s driving Zayn mad, and he picks up his pace, desperate to get Liam off so he can get a hand around himself.

Zayn swirls his tongue around the head of Liam’s dick as he pulls nearly off, and that’s it. He feels Liam tense up, knows even before Liam’s quick, “Zayn –” but he doesn’t pull off. He lets Liam come in his mouth, curious more than anything, and Liam arches prettily against the wall, eyes locked on Zayn as his lips part soundlessly.

Zayn swallows, pulling off when Liam slumps back, and he makes a slight face. It’s not awful, but not amazing either. He’s about to unzip his own trousers, desperate to get off still because his dick is pressing painfully against the material covering his lap, but suddenly Liam’s arms are tugging on him.

Zayn’s hauled up to his feet and then spun around in quick succession. He gasps when he hits the wall, a sharp sting of slight pain, but that disappears when Liam’s hands are suddenly at the clasp of his trousers. Liam makes quick work of it, tugging Zayn’s trousers open just enough that he can shove his hand down Zayn’s pants and wrap a firm fist around Zayn’s length. Zayn moans at the steady pressure, one hand curling around Liam’s bicep and squeezing as Liam pumps his cock. It’s quick and hard, and Zayn’s coming before long under the expertise of Liam’s calloused fingers. His eyes slam closed, and he thrusts into Liam’s tight grip as he works through it.

Liam slumps against him after, forehead resting against Zayn’s as they both catch their breath. One of Liam’s hands is pressed to the wall just over Zayn’s shoulder, the other held carefully away because it’s spotted in Zayn’s come. Zayn curls his hands in Liam’s shirt, keeping him close in case Liam even tries to pull away.

He doesn’t though. Liam smiles at him when Zayn flutters his eyes open, and then Zayn’s returning it without thought. It’s quiet for a moment as they survey each other, like they’re trying to figure out where each stands, but then Liam breaks the silence with a quiet laugh.

Liam looks down, the tips of his ears reddening slightly. “As many times as I’ve imagined that over the past three months, can’t see I saw it coming.”

Zayn chokes on his own laugh, surprised by the admission. “Spend a lot of time thinking about me blowing you, Payne?”

“Might’ve,” Liam’s grin is cheeky, but his eyes still hold a bit of worry. “Spent a lot of time just thinking about you, really.”

And – yeah they should probably talk about that Zayn thinks. He knows that, for his part, he’s curious about when exactly Liam realized he liked Zayn, why he didn’t bother telling him, why he ever agreed to this publicity stunt, and a million other questions, but exhaustion – the amazing kind that only comes from a good orgasm – makes itself known.

So Zayn simply shrugs and says, “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about you too.”

Liam smiles brightly, like Zayn’s just given him the world, and Zayn’s heart aches in his chest at the sight. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Zayn bites his lip. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you really. Ever since the premiere, I think. You just – I don’t know, man. You got into my head.”

“Which one?”

Zayn snorts and shoves playfully at Liam, instantly tangling his hands back in Liam’s shirt when it looks like Liam might take a step back. “Cheeky, Liam.” He can’t hide the affection in his voice, and Christ, he thinks they’re both so obvious. He has no idea how they didn’t both see that they liked each other before.

But that’s still a conversation for another day, Zayn thinks as he yawns.

Liam spots it of course and his grin widens. “Tired, Malik?” There’s a put-upon arrogance in the uplift of Liam’s eyebrow, but Zayn allows it.

“Hmm,” he hums an affirmation, smiling softly at Liam. “This fit bloke just gave me an amazing orgasm, and now, if he really likes me, I think he’ll cuddle with me, maybe kip a bit.”

Blush speckles Liam’s cheeks, but he keeps his playful tone. “Oh you think so?”

Zayn nods. “Yeah.” He pulls Liam closer gently, and then presses an equally gentle kiss to Liam’s lips. He keeps it short, though he almost doesn’t want to, and when he pulls back Liam’s beaming at him again. “Come on, sunshine,” Zayn rolls his eyes. “Let’s go clean up, and then you can cuddle me until I pass out.”

Liam follows him into the bathroom, clean fingers tangled together, and every time they catch each other’s eye in the bathroom mirror Liam grins and Zayn bites back laughter.


	3. After

After

 

It’s surprising, to Zayn, that no one catches on. All of the lads are in on the publicity stunt, the band too, most of their crew, but no one seems to see the shift in Zayn and Liam’s relationship. Andy leaves, and Zayn and Liam don’t let up on the physicality of their relationship, but no one comments. When their touches take on actual meaning, when everything is followed by that little pleased smile, when Zayn feels like he’s about to burst just looking at Liam, no one notices.

But Zayn supposes that’s what it’s always like when you get into a relationship. Your entire world shifts, and everything looks different, but no one else can see it. It’s just between the two of you, this new relationship.

And that’s definitely what it is.

Or well, Zayn hopes so. They don’t actually talk about, and while Zayn obviously doesn’t know why Liam doesn’t bring it up, he knows that he’s afraid to. It’s been so long since Zayn started a new relationship, and on top of that, it’s with Liam, his best mate, the person he honestly doesn’t think he could lose without losing a significant part of himself as well. He doesn’t want to push, doesn’t want to try to force something if it isn’t there, because forcing and pushing just breaks, and he doesn’t want to break.

So he has no idea what this is, but he knows that it feels amazing.

It feels freeing the next morning when he wakes up in bed with Liam, curled together, and they don’t play it off like it means nothing. He feels light, weightless, when Liam just pulls him closer and buries his nose in Zayn’s neck.

And that night when he’s in the shower, and Liam comes in without hesitating to brush his teeth, it doesn’t feel weird. It feels normal, domestic in a way Zayn’s never had with anyone. (And maybe it’s also wonderful when he steps out in his towel, and Liam’s eyes darken, and they somehow end up exchanging sloppy hand jobs right there, against the bathroom counter).

It doesn’t knock him breathless, but lets him breathe, and he never imagined that this is the type of relationship he’d want, the one that calms instead of excites, but it’s exactly what he needs. Liam crawls into those empty spaces between his cells that gape, those places that would almost swallow Zayn whole some nights, and he exists there like he belongs there.

Zayn feels entirely himself and hopelessly happy, and it doesn’t matter that they haven’t talked about it.

           

During their next concert, Zayn hands Liam another flower, and Liam grins so wide it looks painful.

 

In the hallway afterward, as Liam walks past with some of their crew, he drags his fingers against Zayn’s back in silent greeting, and Zayn leans into it for those milliseconds of connection.

           

Zayn wakes up one morning to the distinct shutter click of a phone snapping a photo. He blinks blurry eyes to see Liam sheepishly grinning at him.

“What?” he groans out, shuffling closer to press his cold toes to Liam’s shin in retaliation for being woken up. Liam shudders, but his eyes remain on his phone as he types something. Zayn frowns and whines, “Leeyum.”

“Sorry, just –” he breaks off and grins, and seconds later Zayn’s phone buzzes beside him. He only bothers looking at it because Liam’s clearly waiting for him to. He’s not surprised that it’s a Twitter notification, Liam’s obsessed, but when he clicks it open, his eyes widen. It’s a photo of him sleeping, clearly in bed with Liam and also clearly shirtless, and Liam’s captioned it: ‘cant beleeve its only beeen 2 months with @zaynmalik!!! Love you babe xxx’.

He feels his face grow warm and prays that it isn’t completely obvious because Liam will never let him live it down. “Liam...”

Liam fidgets, his smile growing less certain. “I know we didn’t like announce it until the premiere, but I figured our fans might like an official anniversary date, and well, today’s the fourteenth, so that’s before you ran into Danielle but after she and I split, so –”

“Liam,” he cuts him off, a bit in awe of this beautiful boy before him. He sits up slowly, and then crawls directly on top of Liam so he’s straddling his thighs. He honestly was a bit annoyed about the picture of him sleeping, but looking at how genuine Liam is, how much thought he’s put into this, how much he just cares about Zayn and their fans, he can’t be angry. Not at all. In fact, it’s kind of adorable really.

Liam’s fingers wrap tentatively around Zayn’s hips to steady him, and Zayn leans down and presses a quick kiss to Liam’s lips.

“You’re kind of amazing, babe,” he whispers, keeping his gaze on Liam so Liam will know how serious he is. “Like cheesy as fuck, and that’s not really our anniversary, but amazing.”

The grin that steals over Liam’s face is beautiful, slow and gently bright like a sunrise, and Zayn groans because how on Earth is he supposed to resist this boy? He isn’t, he thinks, because he gives in immediately when Liam pulls him down for another kiss.

And when it devolves into rolling hips and hissing breath, he isn’t surprised. His bare cock rubs against Liam’s, and thank Christ that Liam had foresight because without lube this might be unbearable. Liam’s fingers clench in Zayn’s ass, and Zayn pushes down harder on his next thrust. His forearms are aching from holding him up to get the perfect angle to drive his cock against Liam’s, but he ignores that in favor of the pleasure ricocheting through his body. He can’t even remember the last time he got off like this, if he ever even did, but he’s too close already to bother with anything else, and judging by the way Liam’s chest is rising and falling rapidly, he’s nearly there too.

Zayn comes first, and he’s useless as Liam ruts up against him, barely managing to keep himself still enough to maintain the friction. When Liam comes with a gasp, Zayn shudders along with him. The feeling of come cooling between them is rather disgusting, but neither of them attempt to get up and clean off. Liam’s fingers trace absently over the tattoo high on Zayn’s neck, like he has the shape of it memorized, and Zayn’s perfectly content.

 

Louis starts messing with Liam onstage two days later, and Zayn doesn’t even think about it when he stares Louis down. He stalks over, irritation making his eyes narrow, and Louis looks like he’s trying not to laugh. He dodges around to the other side of Liam, and Zayn moves to follow him. They do an awkward dance around Liam that’s mostly Louis running away without trying to look like he is, and Liam’s careful confusion is distracting. When he finally does snag Zayn’s attention back, Zayn can’t fight his grin, and he leans closer just to be further in Liam’s space, like proximity is a physical touch.

He thinks Liam didn’t realize what his and Louis’s crazed dance had been about, so he’s completely surprised later when they’re sprawled out in bed, and Liam whispers, “Wouldn’t mind if you staked your claim again. You look hot when you’re possessive.”

He really can’t be blamed for snogging Liam for a comment like that.

 

After that, Zayn really can’t hold himself back, taking every opportunity to touch Liam, and he’s not surprised when someone finally catches on to the fact that it isn’t faked at all. The fact that it’s Niall is a bit of a relief honestly, because Harry would’ve probably given Zayn some speech about being careful, and Louis would’ve given Zayn shit, but Niall just grins at him.

“So when did you two finally fuck, then?”

Zayn flinches and shoots Niall a look. “Crass, Ni.”

Niall shrugs, grin firmly in place. He doesn’t seem the least bit concerned about someone overhearing them, though Zayn has to admit that Niall’s dressing room is deserted at the moment. “Answer the question, Z.”

“We haven’t.” Which is true. He and Liam have definitely gotten each other off, and there’s been an alarming amount of blow jobs and hand jobs (and Zayn will never forget the way Liam got him off the other morning just by pining Zayn to the bed and rubbing against him for what felt like endless hours, working him up and then backing off again and again until Zayn thought he’d truly lost his mind), but they haven’t gone further. Zayn knows that the fact that they haven’t talked about any of this is what’s holding them back, but he’s still not ready to force that topic, not when they’re still on tour.

“Waiting for tour to end?” Niall asks, clearly on something like the same page as Zayn, though he clearly thinks it’s about privacy, judging by the obnoxious way he wiggles his eyebrows.

Zayn snorts. “Something like that. We just – I don’t know, man. It just shifted, like between us, suddenly so.”

Niall rolls his eyes. “Nothing shifted, you dolt. You two just finally bloody realized that you’re mad about each other.”

“I –” Zayn hesitates over his denial though, because that feels right actually. He’d kind of thought it before, but now that Niall’s saying it too, he thinks it might really be true. It begs the question of how long Zayn really has liked Niall, how long he’s wanted him, how long he’s loved –

Zayn’s eyes widen, and he feels his mouth fall open. His heart pounds, and his gut clenches, but it’s not unpleasant. In fact, it’s the opposite. He feels elated, buoyant, like he’s fucking floating or something. And the world – which has felt slightly off-kilter since Danielle slapped him – suddenly straightens out, and Zayn’s feet feel steady on the ground.

Because he loves Liam.

“I love him.”

Fuck, he loves Liam. He really does. It’s a quiet kind of love, something he’s never felt in a relationship, but its there. It’s definitely there, like the love he has for a family in that it feels permanent. Loving Liam feels like a part of Zayn, one he hadn’t felt before, but it’s there now. Another piece of him, an important one; he loves Liam with a certainty that feels unshakable.

When he finally focuses back on reality, when he escapes his own head and the thousand images of Liam locked in it, Niall’s grinning at him.

“Finally caught on, have you?”

“Fuck,” Zayn can feel how wide his eyes are, but he’s in shock. He just, he’d never realized. All those moments, all that time spent together, the two years of growing closer, and he’d never even considered that it might be something beyond friendship. And he doesn’t think Niall gets it. “Ni, no, like I really love him.”

“Yeah,” Niall nods, shrugging. “You have since X Factor, mate. That’s why it never made much sense to me, you saying you didn’t like lads. I mean, hey maybe you don’t, but you definitely love Liam.”

“I – how though?” Zayn can’t believe that Niall’s acting like this isn’t a big deal. It feels fucking massive to him.

Niall scoffs. “Seriously? You’re asking me how you fell in love? Like I have a bloody clue. You’re the one that fell in love with your best mate. How’d you do it?”

“I didn’t,” Zayn shakes his head. “I mean, I did; I obviously did, but I didn’t know. Like, I never even thought about it. We just, like we just were. I never questioned anything, or I don’t know, thought I even liked him like that. I just kind of – It just – I –”

Niall looks vastly amused when he cuts Zayn off. “You mean, you like literally fell in love? Like you were just walking along, no changes, and bam, fell in love.” Zayn doesn’t argue it, as inadequate as that explanation was, because it was also the closest he could come to describing this feeling. Niall bursts into laughter. “Oh, man, that’s priceless! Bloody brilliant! Honestly, only the two of you would literally fall in love.”

“Not literally,” Zayn mutters, because his love of English hasn’t faded, but yeah he gets Niall’s point. It’s like he just stumbled into love. Fuck, he fell in love accidentally, what a cliché. And oh Christ, hadn’t he made some comment about how people don’t just fall in love without realizing it? He had, he knows, and now look at him.

He’s in love with Liam.

“So,” Niall cocks his head at him, the picture of ease. “What’re you gonna do about it, mate?”

And all of Zayn’s certainty shrinks. “I don’t know.”

 

He still doesn’t know what he’s going to about this revelation (though the obvious is glaring him in the face: tell Liam) on stage that night. The knowledge sits warm, lodged in his chest beside his other organs like a living thing. It’s impossible to love on a cellular level, Zayn thinks, but he sort of feels like he might love Liam like that.

When they sing ‘Kiss You’ the lyrics resonate with Zayn in the cheesiest of ways, but he can’t help it. He’s steamrolled by the absolute need to kiss Liam. But as public as he and Liam are, as affectionate, they don’t really kiss in front of people. In fact, he and Liam kissing is only a recent development, and it’s not instinctive like the rest of it is, not yet.

So Zayn’s fighting the urge to haul Liam to him and snog him, but then Liam turns to him and starts singing at him, and Zayn’s done for.

He barely even waits for the song to end before his greedy fingers are tangling in Liam’s outfit, dragging him closer. Liam’s looking at him with confused but trusting eyes, and Zayn knows that he probably shouldn’t.

He does anyway.

His lips land on Liam’s firmly, and Liam gasps into it lightly. Zayn should probably just let it go at that, but of course he doesn’t. That’s mostly Liam’s fault though because he responds. His arms wrap around Zayn’s, and it’s slightly awkward because they’re both holding microphones, but neither of them bother turning away to set them down. They crawl into each other’s space, cling together, bury fingers in clothing and hair, and smear everything unsaid between their lips. It’s wet, sloppy, probably not extremely graceful from the outside looking at it, but neither of them stop.

They snog until they have to part for air, and the only reason they don’t go back is because Louis’s loud laughter is echoing through the stadium.

“Christ,” Louis gasps, looking at them with startled blue eyes. “Put on a real show for the fans, then. Oi, we’re gonna get in trouble for corrupting the kiddies.”

The audience laughs, and Zayn’s face floods with heat. Fuck, he completely forgot about the audience, but the flashing light overwhelm him and Liam now. It’s going to be everywhere, he knows, his impromptu snogging session with Liam, but as Liam keeps him in his arms, Zayn can’t find it in himself to care.

He buries his head in Liam’s chest, barely catching Harry’s curious gaze and Niall’s very-obvious thumbs up.

Liam chuckles as Zayn pushes his face into his chest, inhaling deeply to center himself again, and Zayn presses his lips just over Liam’s heart in a light kiss.

“What was that for?” Liam wonders.

Zayn shrugs without looking up, worried he’ll give too much away, and this isn’t the place. “Just wanted to, sunshine.”

Liam presses a gentle kiss to Zayn’s hairline, and they stay wrapped up in each other for the rest of the show.

 

The kiss does end up everywhere, and gossip sites are going crazy with it. One Direction has always been somewhat of a favorite among tabloids, and he and Liam are like their wet dream. Zayn still doesn’t regret it though, even as he winces at the surprisingly high-resolution pictures, but it does make him admit something.

He has to deal with this.

He loves Liam, and they’re safe right now, protected by the fact that management believes they’re doing what they’re told, but that won’t last forever. A break up hasn’t been mentioned yet – since it’s only been about two and a half months – but Zayn knows it’s in management’s eventual plans.

And he can’t allow that.

He wants Liam, is the thing. Really and truly wants Liam. Wants to wake up to his ridiculous face every morning, even though Liam gets up early. Wants breakfast and snuggling and shitty movies and even worse meals because neither of them can cook. Wants it all, and they can’t have that if they have to hide this.

Fuck, Zayn can’t even imagine trying to hide a relationship, let alone this one with Liam that feels so consuming.

So he needs to tell Liam, to confess how he feels and pray that it doesn’t scare Liam off. He knows it’s going to change things again, no way it won’t when he’s gone and fallen in love after only two and a half months of ‘dating,’ but he trusts Liam. So he needs to tell Liam, and then they need to figure out how to approach management.

But first, there’s something else Zayn needs to do.

He crawls out of bed, up before Liam for the first time in their entire friendship probably, and heads over to the balcony, phone clutched firmly in the hand. The door makes a slight noise as it opens, but Liam doesn’t stir. He hardly ever does, when he’s truly asleep, and Zayn has to hold back a fond snort. Slipping out of the door, he leaves it open a sliver at the last minute, wanting to hear Liam’s occasional soft snore, like that’ll give him the bravery he needs to do this.

His phone feels cold in his hand, but he ignores that and flips to a once-familiar contact that hasn’t been used in too many months. It only rings once, and Zayn’s not surprised that she picks up so quickly.

“Zayn.” Her voice is carefully neutral, and Zayn gets that.

“Hey Perrie,” he sighs out, slumping over the railing and looking out at the sight before him. Australia is beautiful, and Liam loves it here, but it feels so foreign to Zayn. As amazing as Liam looks in a wetsuit, Zayn can’t wait until they’re home, curled up in sweaters and hidden under thick blankets to fight that natural chill. And it’s very telling, that he’s on the phone with Perrie right now, and all he can think about is Liam.

“I wasn’t expecting this call,” she says when it’s obvious that Zayn’s not going to start this conversation. “Not after all this time.”

“It’s only been a couple of months, Pez.”

“Has it?” she challenges, and there’s an edge to her voice.

Zayn wants to snap at her that it shouldn’t matter, since she’s the one who broke up with him, but he doesn’t. He’d wonder too, in her place. “Yes,” he says firmly. “There wasn’t anything between us when you and I were together.”

Perrie scoffs, but it’s not cruel. “It’s you and Liam; there’s always been something between you.”

“I – what?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Perrie’s quick to say. “I don’t think it was ever like a real thing, but you and Liam have always had that, I don’t know, intensity between you too. Jesy and I are close, Zayn, very close, but we have nothing on you and Liam. It was never really just friendship between you.”

Zayn closes his eyes and wonders once again how he missed it. “You never said anything.”

“Never saw a reason, too. You obviously weren’t doing anything. I wasn’t even sure you were aware of it, until I saw the news.”

And here it is, where Zayn has to explain. Half of his recent hesitation about making this phone call has been because he doesn’t know how much of the truth he wants to give Perrie. The fact is that he’s always been honest with Perrie, but if Liam hadn’t happened, Zayn would still be hung up on her right now, and that imbalance has changed things between them.

So he settles on something in the middle. “I wasn’t, really,” he starts, squinting out at the bright sun. “I mean, it hadn’t crossed my mind until Danielle accused me of it.”

Perrie makes a rough noise in the back of her throat. “You mean she slapped you and nothing had happened? Oh my God, is that why you didn’t defend yourself?”

Zayn’s lips quirk, because he can imagine Perrie’s twisted amusement. It was one of his favorite things about her, how amusing she found life. “It is. I was in shock, had no idea what she was even going on about. Anyways, I went to Liam’s after, and well...”

“Yeah,” Perrie’s quick to say, like she’s just as reluctant to hear the details as Zayn is to give them. “Sounds like you. You were always a bit distant, a bit oblivious.”

“Is that why you broke up with me?” Zayn wonders. It doesn’t matter anymore, not the way it used to, the questions once keeping him up at night, but he’d still like to know. Curiosity and all that.

Perrie hesitates for a moment, and then Zayn can almost hear the shrug in her voice. “One of the reasons. It was hard for me to figure out what you were thinking all the time. Liam, I think he kind of just knows, but I never did.”

And yeah, Zayn thinks. That’s exactly it. Liam does just know what Zayn’s thinking, knows not to take it personally when Zayn disappears inside of his own head because it’s not personal. It’s just the way Zayn operates.

“But that wasn’t it,” Perrie continues. “It was a lot of things, honestly. The distance, emotional and physical, how hard it was to meet up. How hard we had to work at it, I don’t know. Even all the press started getting to me. I think I mostly just wanted the girls and myself out of your shadow for a bit.”

“I’m sorry,” Zayn mutters, guilt thick in his throat, because he never wanted that for them. He’s not close with the other girls of Little Mix, but he does feel bad about how his and Perrie’s relationship dominated their fame. It wasn’t fair, but there was nothing he and Perrie could do about it.

“Not your fault,” Perrie sighs out. “In the end, I think I just wanted a break, really. Was actually thinking about suggesting we meet up when your tour ended, just before the news about you and Liam broke.”

Zayn straightens in surprise, because this is brand new information to him. When Perrie had ended it, she had sure as hell made it sound permanent to him. “Honestly?”

Perrie laughs lightly, and it sounds a bit strained. “Truthfully. Wanted to meet you in London, see if we couldn’t work through it. I know I made it seem like it was definitely over, Zayn, but I have missed you, more than I imagined even.”

Zayn doesn’t know what to do with that. Three months ago, he would’ve immediately taken her up on it, done anything to attempt to fix whatever wasn’t right in their relationship, but now – well it all comes down to one word, really: Liam.

And Perrie must understand, must get that it’s all changed for Zayn, because she laughs lightly again. “Yeah, I figured that would pretty much be your answer now. Missed my chance.”

“Pez –”

“I’m not blaming you, Zayn,” she reassures. “I did it to myself, you know, and you can’t help who you love.”

“I still love you,” Zayn feels compelled to say because it’s true. He’s not in love with her anymore, but he loves Perrie. She was exactly what he needed at one point in his life, what he had once thought he’d want forever.

“That’s what they always say,” Perrie laughs out, sounding more genuine now. “And yeah, I guess it’s true. I still love you, at any rate, and I’m not going to hate you for this, if you won’t hate me either.”

“Of course I don’t hate you.” He never had. Their break up wasn’t like that, was never the cutting or cruel.

“Damn right.”

He laughs because that’s what they did, he and Perrie. They laughed a lot, and it was a good relationship, a fun one, but one – now that he’s looking back on it – that would never have lasted. They were both too determined to be exactly who they were and to be successful. Mindsets like that aren’t compatible in a relationship already so complicated by fame.

“So,” Perrie says eventually when silence has stretched for too long between them. “I don’t suppose you’d still be up for meeting me in London? I know it won’t change anything, but I would still like to see you.”

Zayn hesitates because he’s not sure that’s a great idea. As wonderfully as this conversation is going, he’s not sure this amity will last between them. Emotions are messy after all, and there’s no way to subtract them from a break up, no matter what they say.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” Perrie points out. “Just keep it in mind. You’ve got a bit of a break, and the girls and I are mostly recording right now, so.”

“No, yeah,” Zayn shakes his head. “We’ve still got another week, what with travel to Tokyo. So maybe, when I get back, I’ll call you again.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I’d like to,” Zayn affirms, because he thinks he would, maybe. It’d be closure at the very least, and if he could talk Liam into going – well, he’s not sure, but maybe. “I can see you in London.”

“Yeah?” Perrie sounds grateful for it, and Zayn understands. It’s hard to untangle yourself from someone after a break up, but it’s easier when you know exactly where you stand. He and Perrie need to figure that out, and it’d be better in person.

“Yeah,” he sighs out.

“Right, then. I’ll let you go. You probably want to go find your new, hot boyfriend.”

Zayn nearly chokes. “Perrie.”

She laughs. “Sorry, that’s probably crossing some lines. Definitely is, actually. So, I guess I’ll see you in London sometime soon, then.”

Zayn shakes his head. “Yeah, see you soon, Pez.”

She hangs up with a quiet bye, and Zayn stares quietly at his phone for a moment. He’s not sure how he feels about that conversation, but he knows that he doesn’t regret anything he said.

He feels right with Liam, and it’d not even been a thought, whether he would take Perrie back now. It’s Liam, for him, definitely Liam.

When Zayn slips back into the room, Liam’s no longer in bed. He frowns at the twisted up sheets, surprised he hadn’t heard anything, but then the bathroom door opens. Liam walks out, dressed and toweling his hair dry.

“Hey,” he greets easily, eyes slipping past Zayn to land on the clock beside the bed. “I was thinking about convincing Louis to go out surfing with me today. Want to come with me and see if Harry wants to do anything?”      

“Oh,” Zayn thinks about it. He’d honestly rather spend the day in bed with Liam, since it’s the last they’ll be here before catching their flight tomorrow for their last two shows in Tokyo, but he’s not going to stop Liam from surfing while he can. Besides, he hasn’t really hung out with Harry this whole portion of tour, and he feels a bit guilty about it. “Yeah, definitely. Just let me shower.”

Liam grins at him, sleep making it a bit tight, and when Zayn passes him, he lets his fingers glance Liam’s side.

 

Harry, of course, spends the day harassing Zayn about Liam, but Zayn doesn’t tell him anything. He still wants to talk to Liam before he starts telling everyone. Niall’s the exception because he’s Niall, and he’s always the exception. Zayn dodges the questions though, and spends the day texting Liam. Liam hardly responds, but Zayn knows it’s because he’s in the water, which of course sends Zayn down a path of picturing Liam on the beach and then, well he hardly even hears Harry.

 

Liam and Louis don’t come back until pretty late, and then Liam suggests that they all get dinner together, since they haven’t in a while. They can’t go anywhere on such short notice, but they order room service. It’s kind of perfect in that chaotic way they’ve mastered, the one they perfected and settled into at Harry’s dad’s bungalow what feels like a lifetime ago. Louis and Harry remain tangled in each other, as always (and wasn’t that a surprise when Zayn, Liam, and Niall found out, though they all quickly adjusted) and Zayn and Liam hover near each other, with Niall casually cuddling up to whoever he wants to in that moment.

It just makes Zayn think that he and Liam really have been heading towards this since that beginning, that something has definitely always been between them. He finds himself grinning at Liam throughout the night without reason, and he doesn’t really blame Liam for the confused looks he receives.

When he and Liam eventually stumble back to their own room, it’s late, and even if Zayn had wanted to talk to Liam about everything tonight, he wouldn’t have gotten the chance.

“I’m dead tired,” Liam mumbles out as soon as they get to the room. He falls into the bed unceremoniously. “Think I’ll sleep in as late as I can tomorrow.” His face is nearly buried in the mattress, voice muffled, and he looks half-dead, laying like that.

“Lazy sod,” Zayn scoffs, but he peels off his clothes and climbs into bed. Liam doesn’t even move, and Zayn thinks he really must be exhausted if he’s not even cuddling up. He snorts, and leans over to press a quick kiss to the back of Liam’s head. “Night, Li.”

Liam doesn’t respond, and Zayn can’t believe he’s already fallen asleep. He grins at nothing, complacent in his contentment, and rolls over, seeking his own sleep.

 

The next day is a mad rush to catch the plane because no matter how many times they do this, they always fail to get ready in time. Paul just watches them with a smug expression, and Zayn’s fairly certain he’s lost more shirts on this tour than any person should.

When they’re all on the plane two hours later – a compromise because they haven’t travelled on a bus in a while even though they had one in Australia, and they kind of all miss travelling together like that – Zayn just wants to sleep.

He hadn’t slept well the night before, like he’d become too used to Liam’s heat to fall asleep without it pressed against his side, and he’s dead tired. They all have to be sitting up and buckled in for takeoff, but as soon as they’re allowed, Zayn’s up and out of his seat like the rest of them. They all migrate towards the more open area while security stays in the individual seats. Harry and Louis settle into chairs that face each other, while Niall and Liam each claim an end of the couch. Zayn doesn’t even have to think about it before he’s settling onto the couch beside Liam, pressing into his side and nearly purring. “Want to sleep,” he murmurs.

He’s about to push his face into Liam’s neck, his new favorite place to be, when Liam jumps up suddenly. Zayn nearly face plants and all of the boys look at Liam in surprise. Liam’s fidgety on his feet, tugging on the hem of his shirt like he’s uncomfortable, and Zayn’s heart sinks because Liam’s so clearly anxious about something.

“Liam?” Niall ventures, first to find his voice. “You alright there, mate?”

“No, yeah,” Liam quickly assures, eyes darting everywhere, and Zayn tries not to take it personally, though he could swear that Liam’s doing it to avoid Zayn’s eyes specifically. “I just, um, you should all know that when we get back to London –”

“London,” Louis tries to interrupt. “Mate, Tokyo first –”

“– I’m meeting up with Danielle.”

It’s completely silent immediately after, Louis’s sentence unfinished like Zayn’s thoughts. It takes a moment to sort through exactly what Liam said, since he and Louis were talking at the same time, but even when Zayn goes over it twice, just to make sure he’s got the words right, that he heard correctly, it doesn’t make sense.

He stares at Liam, and when his voice comes out, it’s strangled. “Danielle?” he repeats, like it could have been anyone else.

Liam looks at him and then looks slightly to the side as he nods. “Yeah, she, um, she called yesterday and wants to see me when we get back, so –”

“Yesterday?” Louis demands. “Man, I was with you like all of yesterday. When did she call you?”

“I didn’t answer,” Liam runs an irritated hand through his hair. “But I called her back this morning –”

“When?” Zayn interrupts, because fuck, he shares a room with Liam, and he doesn’t remember that.

“When you were in the shower,” Liam admits, frowning down at the ground.

Nobody says anything, and it feels so significant. It feels relevant that Liam waited until Zayn was in the shower to call his ex-girlfriend back. Zayn knows what it sounds like, what it feels like to him, but that’s not quite the case.

Niall’s once again the one to interrupt the tense silence. “So you’re meeting her in London,” he starts, voice carefully neutral. “For what? Just to like sort out the details of your break up?”

Liam quickly shakes his head, and Zayn tenses, like he knows what’s coming, like he can sense the pain. Still, he’s completely winded when Liam says, “No, uh, she wants to talk about getting back together.”

The silence feels oppressive this time, and Zayn knows that everyone’s looking at him, but he can’t look at anyone except Liam. Liam, who won’t look back at Zayn, and Zayn doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get any of it. The world finally felt like it settled underneath him, but now it feels like it’s dropped out. Like Liam’s shifted it so much, so quickly, that it’s just gone. Knocked out from under Zayn because he’d thought – But no clearly not. Obviously, it wasn’t at all what he thought.

“So you’re going to tell her it’s over for good?” Harry demands, and his voice is tight with it, green eyes flashing. “That is what you’re going to say, right Liam?”     

Louis puts a hand on Harry’s arm just as Liam shakes his head. “I – Look, she and I – we never really resolved anything,” Liam tries. “We never really talked so –”

“Because she accused you of cheating!” Harry snaps. “Because she wouldn’t listen to you, and then she slapped Zayn! You can’t have forgotten that! You’re going to get back together with someone who slapped your best mate?”

Zayn winces, and it’s so much worse, because Harry doesn’t even know. None of them do except – Zayn catches Niall’s eyes, and they’re so wide with pity that Zayn immediately looks way. He feels like he can’t swallow, tongue heavy and dry in his mouth, and that’s a sign of shock, he’s pretty sure.

Liam sighs. “She apologized for that, said she’d just been taken by surprise, and hadn’t meant it. And – and now that she’s had time to think about everything, she realizes that she made a mistake. She wants to –”

“She does realize,” Louis starts slowly. “That you’re dating Zayn, yeah?”

Zayn’s eyes slide closed before he can possibly catch Niall or Liam’s expression. Niall will look gutted, he knows, and he doesn’t even want to contemplate what expression could be on Liam’s face at those words.

“Fake dating,” Liam corrects automatically, and Zayn visibly flinches at that, can feel himself do it, but can’t stop it. His eyes remain firmly closed though, like the darkness will help him figure out what the fuck is happening.

“She doesn’t know that though,” Niall points out quietly. “As far as she knows you and Zayn are really together, so she’s –”

“I told her the truth.”

Zayn hears the eruption as the other three all exclaim at that; he hears it, but he doesn’t understand it. It’s all just a tidal wave of noise, taking him over and cutting him off from the world completely. He’s always thought getting thrown into a wave like that would be terrifying, and if it feels anything like this, then he knows that it is. It hurts, and it’s terrifying, and he can’t breathe. His lungs ache, his heart protests, and his mind throws up walls that make him flinch as thoughts are cut off halfway through.

And that’s the moment that he knows for sure that whatever he thought was happening between him and Liam, he was horribly mistaken about. He can’t even explain it, but he knows that if Liam told Danielle that it was all fake, then it meant nothing, absolutely nothing. And it doesn’t matter that Liam told Zayn he liked him, because that’s such a fleeting thing. It’s such a nothing word in comparison to a two year relationship, and Zayn was a fool to believe it could hold up past this little play-acting thing they’ve had going on.

Everything in Zayn cracks and then shifts, and he takes a moment to let it settle. He lets the jagged edges press into every centimeter of his skin, accepts the pain for what it is, and works through it. And then he escapes his own thoughts.

“And what about management?” Louis is demanding, when Zayn tunes back in.

Liam shoots a desperate look at Zayn, but Zayn’s face is a perfect mask. He can feel the stiff lines of emotionless control, and he blinks blankly at Liam. “I –” Liam stutters as he tears his eyes away. “I figured we, Zayn and me, could talk to them when we get back to London. We were going to break up eventually, so I don’t think they’ll have a problem with doing it sooner.”

And right, Zayn thinks. They were always going to break up. Always, Liam always knew there was a deadline, an expiration date, an end to this; Zayn’s the one who forgot that.

“Zayn?” Harry’s voice brings Zayn back again, and he’s not sure why he keeps floating away, but he struggles to concentrate now.

“Yeah?” his voice is perfectly calm, alarmingly controlled.

Harry’s green eyes show every flicker of emotion, but Zayn doesn’t try to figure out what he’s feeling right now. “This involves you too. It’s just as much your decision as Liam’s. So, if you don’t want –”

“No,” Zayn cuts him off, standing up quickly. He doesn’t dare think about what he wants, wanted. He doesn’t look at Liam again, doesn’t really look at any of them as he says, “It’s fine if Liam wants to ask management to break up. He’s right. It was always going to end, and I’d hate to keep him from Danielle.”

Someone makes a quiet noise that they clearly failed to bite back, but Zayn doesn’t bother figuring out who. He doesn’t really care, frankly.

“I’m tired,” he says slowly, voice carefully measured. “Think I’ll just go take a kip on the bed.”

He passes Liam and makes sure that not a single part of him brushes against Liam. It’s the first time in months, Zayn thinks, that he’s not touched Liam in passing.

 

Harry comes back to check on him, of course, and Zayn doesn’t let him get a single word out. “I’m fine, Haz. It just took me by surprise, is all.”

“You’re not sleeping,” Harry points out.

Zayn stares at the wall. He’s been counting the random marks on it for the past half hour. “Can never sleep on planes.” It’s a complete lie because Zayn can sleep anywhere, but Harry doesn’t call him out on it. Zayn hears him leave, and then moments later he hears someone else enter.

“Niall?” he guesses.

“Yeah,” Niall sighs. “Harry figures you tell me the most, so.”

And that’s probably true. Zayn trusts Niall, likes the way the other boy remains silent whenever Zayn wants to confess something. He and Niall have always had a weird dynamic, close but not, one that the fans rarely pick up on. But he’s not going to be confessing anything right now.

When he’s silent for another minute, Niall quietly suggests, “Maybe you should tell him.”

Zayn knows what he’s talking about, remembers vividly only a handful of days ago when he had confessed to Niall that he loves Liam. And the words _who falls in love without realizing_ feel like they’ll follow him to his grave, and he’s an idiot. “No.”

“He should know.”

“No point now, is there?” Zayn brushes it off like it doesn’t make him want to scream until his lungs ache. “None of us ever thought Liam and Dani would break up and stay broken up.”

Which is true, though they haven’t talked about it in a long time. But Liam and Danielle have always had a habit of fighting, breaking up, and coming back together so rapidly no one can keep up. The break ups never even make it to the public, they’re so brief. None of them are exactly happy about it, but they’d all come to accept it, so Zayn’s not sure why they forgot about it.

“Zayn –” Niall starts.

“No,” he cuts him off. “Don’t know why I thought I would change that. Liam and Danielle have been together for ages, and it’s not like what Liam and I had was even real, right?”

Niall leaves without another word, and Zayn completely agrees with the statement he didn’t make out loud.

There’s nothing to say to that.

 

They climb off the plane in Tokyo, and it’s just as mad as it was in January when they were here filming for their movie. Zayn and Liam keep a careful distance between them, and Zayn wears sunglasses even though they’re unnecessary.

           

The pictures from their arrival are up three hours later, and some sites area already commenting on the very obvious space between Zayn and Liam. It wasn’t intentional, not on Zayn’s part at least, but as he reads the articles, he thinks it’s for the best. They’re going to be breaking up in less than a week anyways, if management will agree. They might as well start it now.

           

Management calls of course, and Paul forces Liam and Zayn into the same hotel room to handle it. Zayn maintains eye contact with Liam as he takes the phone and simply says, “We can’t do this anymore, so we want to stage a break up.”

Liam flinches, and the petty part of Zayn that’s still silently screaming in something like agony rejoices. It’s only been hours, but Zayn’s never been one to lie to himself about reality, not really. Liam gave him a definite ending to this, so he’s accepting it. He’s crumbling underneath a firm exterior, but that hardly matters.

The voice on the line starts firing off questions immediately, but Zayn ignores them.

“We’re both done with it. So when we come back to London, we’ll come in and work out all the details, but it is happening.”

The voice sighs and then launches into a new speech about the tentative timeline for the break up, and Zayn’s not even listening to the details.

“Whatever you guys think will work,” he agrees, and Liam stares at him with eyes full of hurt, like Zayn’s killing him slowly. Zayn’s not sure what he could possibly be doing that’s hurting Liam, but he doesn’t much care either. Turning away from Liam, he hands the phone off to Paul.

“There you go,” he mutters, and Paul looks at him with worry heavy in the set of his face, but he doesn’t say anything. Zayn leaves the room in silence.

 

Zayn wakes up in the hotel room alone and immediately reaches for Liam. The other side of the bed is cold, and his hands curl into the sheets as he buries his head in a pillow and screams to let this confusion out before it tears him up inside more than it already has.

 

Their makeup artist clicks her tongue at the circles under his eyes before the concert that night. “Don’t you sleep, darling?”

Liam walks in, and Zayn meets his eyes in the mirror for a split-second. He rips his gaze away, almost expecting his reflection to have grown worse. His face is just the same slightly worn mask as it was moments ago though.

“Not really,” he mumbles, letting his eyes slide down to his lap.

Liam leaves.

 

The concert is horribly awkward, and it’s not even Zayn’s fault. He goes out on the stage fully prepared to play the part of fighting boyfriends, not entirely sure what that would look like, but ready to do whatever, and Liam completely mucks it up.

He’s all over the place, back and forth with Zayn, like he keeps forgetting that they aren’t really pretending anymore. One moment, he’s there, arm thrown over Zayn’s shoulders, and then as soon as Zayn tenses up, he’s gone, on the other side of the stage and frowning.

Zayn’s not even reacting, not contributing a damn thing because he never has the time to react. He’s not sure if he should be shrugging Liam off or trying to cling to him, doesn’t know what narrative management is going to go with after all, but he never gets the chance.

As soon as Liam remembers every time, he’s gone.

Zayn stops trying to react at all, slipping into that emotionless mask that almost feels familiar already.

 

Louis comes into his room the next day and just stares at him.

Zayn stares back because he never shrinks from a challenge that Louis issues, that’s not how they work.

Finally, Louis just sighs. “You two have fucked this up.”

“He’s the one that called it off.”

“Yeah, he did. You ever stop to wonder about why he might have done that?”

Zayn frowns at Louis. “Because of Danielle.”

Louis shakes his head, like he’s endlessly disappointed in both of them. “I don’t know what the hell you two have done, why this feels like a real break up instead of a fake one, but you’re both idiots.”

 

The concert that night is more stable, but it leaves Zayn feeling like shit.

He and Liam stay on opposite sides of the stage the entire time, and even the band is feeling the tension between them. The crowd obviously notes it too, fans calling out random things that Zayn pretends he can’t understand at all.

They play the part of fighting couple perfectly, except for one small slip up.

Their eyes meet as Liam sings that damned line in ‘More Than This’ and it jolts through Zayn painfully because fuck if he doesn’t remember that it’s the line Liam sang to him in Vegas three months ago when he wasn’t even aware because he was too busy fuming over Danielle. He’s not sure if Liam catches the significance – if that even still means anything to Liam, since he clearly no longer fancies Zayn like that, if he ever truly did – because he shuffles offstage immediately after.

He hears the other boys covering for him as he rests his head against a set piece, just focusing on breathing in and out because he’s not sure how much more he can handle.

Paul appears behind him, bottle of water held out for him.

Zayn takes it and sips, feeling like he could throw it up immediately after.

“You good?” Paul asks.

Zayn’s tempted to say no, just to see if Paul would allow him to remain offstage, but he doesn’t push it. He’s too tired to, just fucking bone-deep exhausted, and it’s their last concert. He just wants to go home.

“I’m fine.” He hands the water back. “Not like there’s anything to be upset over.”

           

Another night spent alone in a hotel room, and then they’re heading home. This time they take two separate planes, and Zayn wants more than anything to go with Louis and Niall instead. Management requests that he and Liam travel together still though, something about making the break up believable, so Zayn sucks it up and climbs on the plane after Liam and Harry. He wonders absently if Harry lost a bet of some sort, to be the one stuck with him and Liam, but watching the careful way he navigates between them, Zayn thinks that Harry probably volunteered, the bleeding heart.

Liam keeps looking at him, like he wants to talk or something, but Zayn can’t stand to pretend that everything’s fine right now with Liam. He’s not sure what Liam thinks, if he just believes that Zayn’s doing a killer job at framing this break up narrative or what, but he can’t put forward the effort right now to find out.

Whatever happened between them, whether it was real or not for Liam, it’s changed their relationship, and Zayn’s too exhausted to try and figure it out right now.

 

He sleeps nearly the entire way, and Harry wakes him up after they’ve landed.

When he comes back out into the main cabin, Liam’s waiting by the door.

“Management wants us to walk together,” he explains, face wary. “I think we’re taking the same car too, dropping you off first.”

Zayn just shrugs. He doesn’t care at this point. Whatever it takes to put this all behind them, so he can sort himself out and get back to a friendship with Liam. He’s not naïve enough to think they’ll ever be what they were, but after three days of this curious imbalance, he just wants back. He wants to go back to who he was before this happened.

They get papped as they’re climbing into the car, and Zayn knows that management arranged it. He’s not sure how long they’re planning on dragging the break up out, though this behavior makes him think longer than he anticipated or wants, but he’s going with it.

Or he intends to until Liam puts a hand on the small of his back to guide him into the car. He tenses immediately and takes a very definitive step away from Liam’s hand.

“Don’t touch me,” his voice is nearly a hiss, and he sees the way Liam startles, but he doesn’t care. He associates Liam’s hands on his back with too much now, too many memories that he can’t think of if he wants to get through this. It’s too intimate, and he can’t.

Liam’s shoulders tighten, and he glares at Zayn. “No need to be a dick about it,” he mumbles back. “I’m just trying here Zayn.”

Zayn shakes his head. “You don’t need to try anymore Liam. That’s the whole point of the break up.”

Liam turns his head sharply and mutters, “That’s not what I was talking about,” but Zayn doesn’t bother responding. He’s not sure what Liam means by that anyways.

           

The drive to Zayn’s flat is awful, and even their security starts to fidget by the end of it, which is just impressive. Zayn’s never seen any of them squirm before.

When the car stops outside of Zayn’s building, Liam sighs.

“I think I’m supposed to walk you to the door.”

He clearly doesn’t want to, Zayn can see the distaste in his eyes, and it kills him. He hates everything about this suddenly, hates everything about who he is and who they are and how that affects their personal lives because being a celebrity is so impossible.

“Don’t bother,” he bites out.

Liam’s eyes tighten, but he nods.

Zayn walks alone up to his building, and he knows that this moment is being photographed. He’s kind of glad, like knowing there’s going to be proof out there, of how this ended, will make him feel better somehow.

 

It doesn’t. Zayn locks himself away in his flat, and he tries to avoid the media. That’s impossible of course, and even turning off most of his phone notifications doesn’t stop him from seeing the rumors of a break up. It’s all just speculation of course, much like the first couple of weeks of this, but every article seems to feature a picture of Zayn and Liam with meters of space between them.

Zayn just stares at the photos, wondering if it’s as obvious to everyone else how absolutely devastated he looks in them.

The articles all mention their last performances in Tokyo, the stiffness at the airport, the way Liam stayed in the car when dropping Zayn off. Their titles are questions like ‘Trouble in Paradise?’ and ‘Three Months of Bliss and Then This’ and ‘Broken-hearted Bandmates?’

They all draw him up short because he and Liam aren’t broken-hearted bandmates, just he is. And three months, he can’t believe it’s not even quite been three months. But it does feel like it had been paradise, pretending to date Liam, letting himself think it could be real.

Three months though – Zayn can’t wrap his mind around that, no matter how long he looks it. No matter how many times he counts the weeks back, it still feels unreal. Only three months, and Zayn feels like a completely different person.

 

He texts Perrie after a couple of days. Not that he really wants to, but he figures she deserves at least a message telling her that he won’t meet up with her, not anytime soon. She accepts it without comment, and Zayn’s thankful that she doesn’t try to ask what happened between him and Liam, why they haven’t been together since they got back, though it’s obvious that they haven’t, and that it’s the reason Zayn won’t see her.

Of course, life’s a bitch and that same day the pictures surface of Liam out with Danielle.

Zayn just blinks at the images of Liam and Danielle leaving some restaurant in the city. There’s nothing particularly damning in the photos, a respectful distance between the two, blank expressions on both their faces, but the articles are all concerned. They question where Zayn is, why Liam would meet up with his ex-girlfriend without his boyfriend, what is happening between the two members of One Direction.

He closes his laptop and buries himself between his sheets, letting the world pass him over like a forgotten footnote, and that’s sort of what he is, or what he will be. Zayn’s just a footnote to the novel that Danielle and Liam are going to be, and he feels sick with it.

 

He tweets something, even though he knows he shouldn’t. A throw away quote that will play well when they eventually commit to this break up narrative, and one that he can pretend he just came across if anyone actually asks him about it.

@zaynmalik: ‘To lose someone you love is to alter your life forever.’

And yeah, it’s definitely about Liam. Zayn wonders if he’ll ever figure that out.

 

None of the other lads try to see him, though Louis texts him almost daily with ridiculous shit that’s so clearly a distraction it makes Zayn smile. He still aches, especially in the morning when his thoughts are sluggish, or at night when the dark doesn’t let him hide, but he mostly ignores it. He’s survived heartbreak before, and that was after a failed engagement and two years. He swears he can survive this – just three months and not even a real relationship – if he could survive that, even if his mind reminds him that this hurts so much worse in so many different ways.

 

Management calls a couple of weeks later, when the rumors are still circulating, getting more pointed because, while Liam hasn’t been seen with Danielle again, he hasn’t been seen with Zayn either.

It’s Megan’s voice in the other end of the phone, and for the first time, her voice has a trace of emotion in it, a slight hesitation. “We’d like you and Mr. Payne to come in for a meeting.”

Zayn shrugs at the ceiling from where he’s sprawled out on his sofa, though she obviously can’t see it. “Fine. When?”

“Friday morning.”

Surprise flickers over Zayn’s face because it’s only Tuesday morning now, but it doesn’t matter to him. He and Liam are going to have to go through the motions of this public break up eventually; he’s already accepted what’s going to happen.

“Any instructions until then?”

Her hesitation is more obvious this time. Zayn thinks it’s quite funny that she’s treading so carefully now, when he’s far too gone to actually care, after she basically bulldozed through the initial proposal. It does make him remember that she’s an actual person, another human being who probably has to be robotic to do her job; Zayn knows he’d have to shut his emotions down to do what she does.

“None,” she finally sighs out. “We’ll have a plan outlined on Friday morning for your approval, but until then you and Mr. Payne are free to continue on as you have.”

“Great.” Zayn doesn’t care if she can clearly hear the sarcasm in his voice.

She speeds through the rest of the nonsense she has to tell him, details about the car that’ll pick him up, the exact time of the meeting, useless information really because Zayn’s not fighting management on this one.

Finally she hangs up, and Zayn throws his phone into the armchair so he can ignore it. He spends the rest of the morning trying not to think about how he and Liam had sat here less than three months ago, listening to Zayn’s sisters instruct them on how to be a couple.

He thinks they all might have done too good a job.

 

Knocking on his door wakes him in early afternoon, and Zayn frowns at the world around him. He hadn’t really planned on falling asleep, not that he had anything else to do today. All of the lads still have another couple of weeks off, their standard break time after tour and before the next album’s process begins.

He thinks about not answering the door, a fleeting thought that he often has honestly when people show up unexpectedly, but he drags himself up eventually of course. It could be his mum for all he knows; she’s been rather clingy since he came back, and that definitely has to do with the way he broke down when he called her and explained everything that had happened. It was alarmingly like the call he’d made to her after Perrie, and Zayn hates that his mum hadn’t known what to say this time. Still, her voice alone had been a comfort, and it’s just like her to show up and make sure he’s functioning like a human being.

It’s not her though when Zayn opens his door. It’s not Louis or Harry or Niall or even one of Zayn’s sisters.

It’s Liam.

Zayn honestly thinks about closing the door because fuck no, but Liam clearly anticipates that. He places his hand on the door, face wary but shoulders set, and his wide brown eyes are skimming over every inch of Zayn.

“What?” Zayn snaps, very aware that even though he showered this morning (a blessing) he’s dressed in loose joggers that are probably Liam’s, not that he remembers, and a stretched out shirt that should honestly be thrown out, it’s so ragged. His hair’s a wreck, and his face is probably drawn because he just woke up from a short kip that can’t make up for all the hours he isn’t sleeping at night. He can’t even remember the last time he shaved, probably before their last show in Tokyo.

Meanwhile, Liam looks great, if a bit frazzled. He’s dressed in well-fitted jeans, a form-hugging jumper. His jaw is covered in that carefully groomed scruff he started growing out over this tour, and his hair’s gained more length, the longest it’s been since he shaved it off last October when he and Danielle were going through a rough patch. Zayn sort of hates him for looking so good.

“Can I come in?” Liam’s voice is quiet, and Zayn really does hate him. He hates Liam for still having this effect on him, this insane need to just make Liam happy. It’s dangerous to value someone’s happiness so much, but fuck if Zayn can seem to stop himself.

He just stares at Liam because he has no idea how he’s going to handle this. His mouth makes up his mind though, because he says, “I don’t really want to let you in, honestly.” And honest is probably a good way to navigate this, but Zayn still almost wants to take it back when Liam flinches.

“I deserve that. I know I do, but Zayn, please. Just let me in.”

He can’t stand Liam begging, never could, and it’s only worse now that he knows he’s in love with him. He’s angry with him, impossibly and solidly angry, but it’s still Liam. And Zayn’s still Zayn, so he lets him in.

They stare at each other across the coffee table, having each taken a side like it’s a bloody war, and it’s almost hilariously awkward. (Except for how it isn’t because Zayn’s never in his life felt awkward around Liam, and he wants to cry and shout and maybe rip out his hair a bit).

Liam starts, and Zayn almost wishes he wouldn’t. “I think I owe you an apology.”

The snort that leaves Zayn’s mouth is dismissive in the worst way. It’s not constructive to their conversation, and he knows it by the way Liam shrinks back a bit, hard-won confidence not a match for Zayn’s fuck-you attitude, but it’s hard to curb his natural defenses, especially when he knows just how deeply this can cut him.

“That’s the worst apology I’ve ever heard mate,” he says eventually.

Liam’s spine straightens, and he glares at Zayn. “Can you just – can you not make this harder than it already is?”

Zayn looks away because he deserved that and – well aimed Liam. “You don’t have to,” he sighs out, refusing to meet Liam’s eyes. “Seriously, it’s – I mean, I quite clearly misunderstood some things, so it’s not your fault.”

“No, not –” Liam groans. “Fuck, Zayn, we used to understand each other so well. When did that change?”

 _Right around when you kissed me like you meant it,_ Zayn thinks. Along with – _Maybe when it became real to me._ Or – _The second I fell in love with you._

Liam keeps talking though. “I’m not apologizing for that. Never for that. I’m not sorry for it, I don’t – I don’t regret it.”

Zayn’s head snaps up, eyes narrowed, but Liam looks genuine. He’s got that stubborn set to his lips that Zayn recognizes from the infrequent times Liam would actually put his foot down about something and – _oh._

 _Something_ clicks in Zayn’s mind, and the fact that Liam’s here, that Liam’s sought him out, suddenly feels much more relevant.

“What are you sorry for then?” He’s cautious, hopeful but trying to control it because hoping can lead to disaster.

“Danielle.”

“Yeah, you should be sorry for that.”

Zayn hates how petty his voice sounds, but fuck if he can control that. It’s a brutal remember, throwing him back to where they currently stand, instead of where he hopes, hoped, might always hope they will stand.

Liam shakes his head, eyes a wealth of sorrow like he does know what Zayn’s thinking again. “I thought you were getting back together with Perrie.”

Zayn’s eyes widen, and he doesn’t understand. When would Liam have ever – but no. Zayn knows immediately when Liam could have come to that conclusion, the empty bed flashing in front of his eyes like he’s back in that Australian hotel room. “You overheard my phone call.”

Liam shrugs. “Didn’t mean to. I woke up when you got out of bed though.”

Zayn just stares at him because that can’t be the whole explanation. It wouldn’t make sense, because that conversation wasn’t what Liam so clearly thought it was. “You only heard part of it then.”

“I –” Liam hesitates. “I think I did. Because I heard you say you were going to meet her here, and you haven’t. I know you haven’t.”

“Of course I haven’t,” Zayn gapes at Liam, ribs bruised because – fuck. Christ, that wasn’t what he’d been talking about at all, and of course that’s what Liam would have caught. Of course, because Zayn’s got the shittiest luck in all the world. “She wanted to talk about getting back together yeah, but I told her I was with you now. Like really with you, Liam. We were going to meet up to get closure. Shit, all you had to do was _ask_.”

Liam swallows, like he’d come to that conclusion on his own, but he had still needed to hear it confirmed. His guilt has clearly grown though, as he wipes sweaty hands down his pant legs, and Zayn wonders what it was that finally tipped Liam off. Because he clearly knows now that Zayn’s not playing up to any break up narrative; he’s in genuine pain over this, and Liam’s the cause. “I – Look, can you just – Just answer one thing for me. Just one thing, and I think it’ll all make a lot more sense.”

Zayn nods, feeling as lost and torn open as Liam looks. All of their secrets are spilled between them, but they’re a collision, a scattered mess on the floor that they can’t hope to work through.

“Was it real? After – after that interview when I confessed that I liked you, was it real?”

“Before that,” Zayn whispers. Liam blinks dumbly at him, and Zayn understands that confusion and why it exists. It’s not like Zayn was aware of that fact before either. He’s had a long time to think about this though, days and days, and he knows that it was real to him from the beginning. It had never felt like anything else. “Since the beginning Liam, I –”

Liam rounds the coffee table, and Zayn nearly stumbles back but a hand in his shirt catches him. Liam keeps walking until Zayn’s back hits the wall, pressing up against him, and Zayn parts his lips on a gasp, half-expects a kiss, but Liam buries his nose in Zayn’s neck instead.

He whispers his words there like a confession, “I’ve liked you since that damn show in Vegas, and I broke up with Danielle because of it. I was going to – I was working on how to tell you, couldn’t imagine not, even though I was completely sure that you were straight and in love with your ex. I was going to tell you, Zayn.”

Zayn stares at his living room and thinks that he’ll never be able to look at it the same anymore. This room will forever be the place that his entire life fell into place with an almost audible click. This is the place where he allowed himself to take that final step, to fall into love with Liam Payne.

Because it isn’t even a decision. As soon as the words are out of Liam’s mouth, as soon as Zayn knows that he didn’t misread everything, he’s right there again. He’s in love with Liam Payne.

His hand comes up to cradle the back of Liam’s head, and he presses himself harder to all the lines of Liam’s body, wanting nothing more than to blur them together. “I had a massive crush on you during X Factor. Thought I was going to go crazy with it, and I don’t think it ever went away, man.”

Liam snorts into his neck, his nose dragging a solid, cold line up Zayn’s jugular, and Zayn shudders. “Could’ve fooled me. I was so sure you were going to hate me for this whole mess. And then we kissed –”

“Fucked.”

“Got each other off,” Liam corrects, hands spreading hotly over Zayn’s back, spanning almost the entirely of it. Zayn’s eyes threaten to roll back, and he’s not sure when they turned this corner from conversation to fucking foreplay, but he can feel the tension between he and Liam cresting. “And then that happened, and I wasn’t sure what I was. If I was just an experiment to you, mate, because you never said –”

Zayn makes a dissatisfied noise, but fuck, he thinks it’s true. That’s the moment he pinpoints as realizing how desperately he liked Liam, but he’d never said that. He’d just acted and trusted that Liam would read him, but they were twisted by then, and he should have known. He should have said, should have known that Liam might have doubts, should have told him. “Sorry.”

Liam shakes his head, dragging Zayn’s hips forward so they can line their lower halves up. Legs slot together, and Zayn fights the urge to roll his hips. There’s no doubt where this is heading, but Liam’s clearly on another mission first. “I got it now. Guess I should have seen it earlier, maybe would have if I hadn’t wanted it so damn bad. I didn’t trust that you really wanted me, because it was what I kept imagining, like a guilty pleasure.”

“I want you,” Zayn breathes out. “Fuck, Leeyum, I just want you. Of course I do.”

Liam hums and noses up to Zayn’s jaw. His lips press gently there first, and then a quick pinch of his teeth that leaves Zayn hissing and arching a bit. “I’m not getting back with Dani. Never even considered it really. I haven’t thought about anyone but you for three months, Malik, and I think – if we wanted – we could give this a go.”

“I think we already pretty much have.”

Liam presses another kiss to his jaw, drags his lips over the hair there until he’s at Zayn’s chin. His eyes dart up, and Zayn nearly goes cross-eyed just to catch a glimpse of the heat there. His cock twitches when he does, and yeah, he definitely knows where this is going, wants it to, like an ache in his teeth. “For real, this time though,” Liam breathes. “I want to date you, Zayn Malik.”

Zayn groans and gives in to the intense need to feel Liam’s lips on his own. He knocks Liam’s chin up, presses a hot kiss to his lips. Liam’s bottom lip slips between his and he presses an eager tongue to the seam. It’s slow but not at all gentle as he bites at Liam’s lips, tastes the backs of Liam’s teeth and the roof of his mouth, like he’s claiming the space again after nearly a week of absence.

When he pulls back, their chests hitch, knocking together with rough breaths. “So ask me then,” he challenges, a teasing note creeping into his voice.

Liam rolls his eyes, but his grin is pleased. And he gives Zayn exactly what he wants, though he hadn’t asked for it. “Date me, Zayn. Hold my hand in public and kiss me in front of everyone and drive the other lads mad. Wake up with me, and let me fuck you in the mornings. Buy a house with me and a dog and go to stupid superhero movie premieres with me, and fuck, I don’t even know,” Liam laughs shortly, and Zayn hates how easily this stupid boy is undoing him.

“But just –” Liam lets himself be serious again. “Will you date me, Zayn?”

Zayn presses a warm palm to Liam’s face, tilts his head at the perfect angle, stares into his eyes without hesitation or fear, and he smiles. It’s the grin he happens to know that Liam loves, the one he admittedly rarely gives, but he lets it consume his face now. “I will.” Relief and Liam surges forward instantly, and Zayn barely stops him with two fingers pressed to his mouth. He can feel Liam frowning, and he snickers. “On one condition.”

“Fuck you, Malik,” Liam mumbles.

Zayn smirks at him. “Exactly.”

Liam’s eyes widen, and he’s clearly surprised, but Zayn’s not taking it back. His dick is more than half-hard in his joggers, and he knows Liam can feel it. Hell, he can feel Liam’s length nearly digging into his hip, and he’s never had sex with Liam – or any lad – but he wants this.

When he doesn’t take it back, Liam lets loose a noise much closer to a growl than a groan, and roughly tugs Zayn forward. Zayn gasps when Liam grinds their cocks together, eyes fluttering with the sudden wash of heady sensation. “Fuck, yes. Christ, Zayn,” Liam breathes. “Think most people wait until after the first date, but like I could ever turn you down.”

“Think waiting would be kind of pointless,” Zayn observes dryly. “Besides, I’ve been thinking about you fucking me for a month now.”

Liam’s eyes dilate so rapidly, Zayn’s almost concerned. That concern is completely overridden though when Liam growls out, “Bedroom?”

Zayn doesn’t hesitate to shove away from the wall.

They stumble up steps, Liam walking backwards even though it would go much quicker if he didn’t. But he seems determined to keep his eyes on Zayn, and it’s driving Zayn mad. He can’t think, can’t focus on anything but the heat behind Liam’s eyes, and he thinks that Liam knows it’s pushing him to the limits of his control. When Liam’s fingers dance under his shirt in question on the stairs, Zayn tugs it off without hesitation. He captures Liam in another kiss and tugs at his shirt, dragging Liam back immediately as soon it’s gone. Their feet catch on the stairs, and it’ll be a miracle if they don’t eat it, but he doesn’t care. Liam’s chest presses hotly to his own, and their shoes and socks are toed off, and they’re going to leave an obvious and terrible trail of clothes behind.

And Zayn’s a bit in love with that idea.

When they make it to Zayn’s bedroom, he curls fingers in Liam’s waistband and flips them, so his back is to his bed. “Take these off, yeah?”

Liam’s hands leave him, undoing his button and then zip. Zayn watches as he pushes the tight fabric down, his breath hitching when it snags around his thighs, and fuck him, but Liam’s gotten massive over the past two years. He’s filled out in ways Zayn will never be, and Zayn shucks out of his own jeans with jittery anticipation.

Zayn steps back towards the bed, lets space fall between them, and hooks his fingers in the elastic of his pants. Liam freezes, just watching him, and it burns low in Zayn’s stomach, like this is the first time. He thinks it might be the first time that really counts though, so he turns his back and steps out of the tight-fitting material, glancing over his shoulder to see Liam.

Liam’s staring at him, eyes dark with want, and his bottom lip looks fit to bleed, he’s biting at it so hard. When their eyes catch, Zayn can’t help the teasing smirk, the silent challenge. His heart thrums when Liam accepts and shucks off his own pants. His dick slaps up against his belly, already wet at the head.

Zayn crawls onto the bed, moving slowly so he doesn’t stumble because Liam’s heavy gaze is a constant presence, one that he revels under. He’s careful deliberation for a moment as he figures out what he wants, but it’s a simple decision. He thinks over the past few weeks, thinks of how many times he and Liam have curled together, and he knows how he wants this.

So he stays on his knees and shuffles up the unmade bed until he’s close enough to the headboard to latch his hands on. He spreads his legs, listens to the audible gasp behind him, and he can’t help how he arches his back just enough to make the curve of his ass apparent.

When he looks back over his shoulder, Liam’s fisting himself, and Zayn wants him so bad it hurts. “Come here,” he begs. Liam’s eyes snap up to his face, and Zayn preens under the attention. “Want you to fuck me like this, my hands on the headboard, your chest to my back. Please, Liam, I want to feel you.”

Liam follows him up the bed, and Zayn watches the seamless flow of his muscles underneath tan skin. When he kneels behind Zayn, it strains Zayn’s neck to stare at him, but he watches. He’s mesmerized by the definition in Liam’s thighs, the flex of his abs, the way his arms look massive as he positions his hands beside Zayn’s on the headboard. He moves up slowly, chest gently pressing into Zayn’s spine and then pressing firmer when Zayn shudders. His cock slips between Zayn’s cheeks, and Zayn presses back into it without thought, eyes closing at the new sensation.   

“Ever done this before?” Liam’s voice is rough, low and resonant, and fuck, Zayn’s doomed. Liam’s lips catch at his ear, and his tongue darts out for a quick taste. “Fingered yourself, I mean?”

Zayn nods, tilting his head to let Liam at his neck. Liam obliges the silent question and sinks his teeth in gently but firmly. Zayn can’t wait to see the mark that leaves tomorrow. “Yeah,” he sighs out. “A few times, there’s, uh, lube in the –” he cuts off when Liam sucks gently over the mark, and then Liam disappears. He’s back before Zayn can ask, and Zayn hears the telltale snick of the bottle of lube opening. 

His fingers tense, but he relaxes them. It’s more anticipation than nerves, but Liam clearly catches it.

“Alright?” he asks softly, one hand cupping Zayn’s hip as though to hold him up. Zayn quickly nods. “You want this? We don’t have to –”

“Want you to fuck me, Li,” Zayn moans out, pressing his ass back pleadingly. He really doesn’t care how desperate he looks for this. His cock is leaking precome steadily, the weight heavy between his thighs, and he burns with the want to fist himself for any amount of relief. He keeps his hands firmly planted on the headboard.

Liam snorts, but it’s all fond affection. “Relax then.” He presses a swift kiss to the spot just under Zayn’s ear, and Zayn’s eyes flutter shut. They fly open a second later when Liam’s cold finger presses gently to his hole. Zayn sucks in a breath of air, but Liam doesn’t push in. He just traces the rim, his other hand rubbing soothing circles into Zayn’s hip.

“You’re beautiful,” Liam whispers, like a quiet confession but with all the absolution of an observation of fact. “Not sure I’ve ever told you, but you are Zayn, especially like this. You have no idea how wonderful you look babe. Your back is flexed like this, and I have no idea how since you don’t go to the gym, but every muscle stands out.”

“Liam.” Zayn’s not sure what he’s doing, and he’s only half-paying attention to the finger tracing his rim, which is why it takes him a bit by surprise when it slips in.

Liam’s there as a distraction before he can even react though, lips pressed firmly to his tattoo on the back of his neck. “Can’t tell you how many times I stared at this one. I love all your ink, but this piece drove me wild before I even knew I liked you, man. Couldn’t help but imagine kissing it, biting at it, before following the line of your spine down. I think I’d like to mark you up, leave a trail as I made my way to –”

“Leeyum,” Zayn nearly whines, shoving back eagerly on Liam’s fingers as Liam pushes into him. He knows exactly where Liam was going with that, and his fingers dig into the headboard at the thought.

Liam chuckles. “Wasn’t sure you’d be into that. It’s not for everyone, getting licked open, but I think I’d love doing that for you.”

“Fuck,” Zayn can barely breathe, Liam’s words overwhelming him nearly as much as the finger working him open, and it only intensifies when Liam slowly adds a second. Zayn’s eyes close, and he pushes off the headboard to work himself on Liam’s fingers. He’s rewarded by a low groan from Liam, his spare hand bruising Zayn’s hip. “Gonna have to hurry if you want in me babe,” Zayn admits.

Liam’s muttered curse is followed by a steady change of pace, and he scissors his fingers. When he goes to pull out, he curls them and –

“Oh,” Zayn shudders hard, eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, Li, do that again.”

Liam buries his pleased smirk to Zayn’s shoulder and does as requested. Lights dance behind Zayn’s eyelids. He’s found his own prostate before, but he swears it didn’t feel this amazing. And Liam doesn’t need any encouragement as he works a third finger in, repetitively rubbing against those nerves, making Zayn nearly twitch with it.

“Liam,” he warns breathily when his stomach tightens. “If you don’t get in me –”

“Bossy,” Liam taunts, but his fingers withdraw. Zayn will absolutely deny that he whimpers, but he feels open and aching without Liam. He’s back seconds later with a hand on Zayn’s hip, and another presumably around his own dick, undoubtedly now wrapped in a condom. Zayn’s hole flutters when he presses the head gently there.

“Ready?” Liam double checks.

Zayn pushes back in answer, and it’s a joint effort as he slides slowly, painfully down Liam’s cock. It is painful at first, Liam stretching him wider than he’s ever been, but underneath that pain is an edge of pleasure that promises more so Zayn keeps going.

Liam, for his part, lets Zayn control it, his breath hitching when Zayn eventually bottoms out. They stay like that for an endless moment, Liam’s chest pressed firmly to Zayn’s back, while Zayn’s fingers relax against the headboard.

“I’m good,” Zayn breathes out, when the pain fades completely. He feels so full, full and stretched, and it’s making his head swim. “I swear, Liam, can you –?”

Liam rocks his hips forward, and Zayn cuts off as a new rush of sensation takes him over. He presses back immediately, and whatever was holding Liam back is gone. He withdraws and then presses back quicker, thrusting into Zayn firmly. Zayn chokes on his breath and shudders, but urges Liam on immediately.

They falter their way into a rhythm as Zayn works himself backward and Liam thrusts. When Zayn twists a certain way, Liam strikes his prostate, and his head bows under the weight of that blissful sensation. Little noises keep leaving his chest with every thrust, and Liam takes over. His arm wraps solidly around Zayn’s chest, moving Zayn back until he’s nearly sat on Liam’s lap. The angle changes, and Zayn’s vision blurs with it. Liam’s cock drags along his prostate, and he gasps, hands convulsing against the headboard.

He sinks down and presses himself up without Liam’s help, and their skin slaps together in a completely pornographic way, and Zayn can’t hold back his moan.

“Fuck,” Liam’s breathes into his ear, presses sloppy kisses to his neck. “Zayn –”

“Yeah,” Zayn sighs out, agreeing completely. Liam reaches for Zayn’s cock just as he does and their fingers tangle together to pump Zayn’s length, and he can’t keep his eyes open at all anymore. Colors dance against the insides of his eyelids, and his bottom lip is going to be a bruised mess. Liam’s breathing puffs out against his neck, warm and humid and growing more rapid as their movements grow quicker and sloppier. Their rhythm falters as they press harder together, but it doesn’t matter. Liam drags along Zayn’s prostate, fingers fluttering around the head of Zayn’s cock, and Zayn’s gone.

His orgasm takes him by surprise, and he hears himself choke over Liam’s name. His head falls forward, like his neck has just given up, and Liam’s forehead falls to rest against the top of his spine. Liam works him through it, thrusting harder, and Zayn tries to stay still, Liam comes with a strangled groan, and Zayn barely catches them against the headboard when they both stop holding themselves up.

They breathe together, Liam’s chest still pressed to Zayn’s back, and Zayn relocates their tangled fingers to his hip. When he’s sure that they’re stable, he shifts off of Liam’s cock. They both hiss as Liam slips free, condom making the slide easier. Liam’s hand slides away from his chest, and it’s a shuffle as Liam discards the condom, and they both turn around to lay down on the bed.

When Zayn blinks again, Liam’s looking at him tentatively, head cradled on the same pillow as Zayn. He smiles softly when he catches Zayn’s eyes. “Hi.”

Zayn laughs breathlessly at the blush on Liam’s cheeks. “Hi.”

They reach for each other simultaneously, and they fall together without problem. Zayn ends up pillowed on Liam’s chest, chin digging in as he runs his fingers over the scruff of Liam’s jaw. Their free hands tangle together and rest just over Liam’s heart, and Liam keeps a firm hand to Zayn’s back, tracing his spine.

The silence is as near to perfection as Zayn can imagine, and he knows they’ll have to talk about everything again, including the fact that they’re actually dating now, but he doesn’t want to shatter this peaceful moment.

Because that’s what it is – Zayn feels at peace, and judging by the smile tugging at Liam’s lips, so does Liam.

They let time pass them by without comment, tangled together in Zayn’s bed, and the afternoon light fades to grey before Zayn even thinks to speak again.

The words arrive on his tongue without thought, and he considers them for a moment. He doesn’t have to tell him. He really, truly doesn’t. They’re good now, right where they should be, and it’s only been three months. Zayn doesn’t have to tell Liam, but he wants to.

“Liam?” he calls softly.

Liam’s fingers don’t pause their trail up and down Zayn’s spine, but he tilts his head down in question, locking eyes with Zayn. He looks dazed, though his eyes clear as he continues to gaze at Zayn.

“I love you.”

The drag of skin on skin stops, and Zayn wants to whine, but he bites his lip and waits instead. They’re the first words he’s said in hours, but he doesn’t regret them.

Liam stares at him, eyes flitting over his face. A slow, gentle smile tugs at his lips, breaking over his face like relief. “I love you, too.” It’s a quiet whisper, not a shout. Liam doesn’t proclaim his love like a revelation, but whispers it like a simple truth, and it’s exactly what Zayn needs.

His lips quirk, and he presses one, quick kiss over Liam’s chest, directly where his own of red lips tattoo would rest. “Good.”

 

Zayn would like to say that they don’t lock themselves away and have an outrageous marathon of sex and sappy confessions for the next three days, but that would be a lie.

They only venture out of the bedroom for food, and end up fucking in the kitchen more than once. The shower is fair game too, even the living room, and Zayn thinks he wouldn’t be opposed to having Liam fuck him on every surface of his flat.

Their fingers learn lines of bodies they’d only studied before, and Zayn’s in love with the feeling of Liam underneath his fingertips. He feels marked with Liam’s fingerprints, and he never wants that feeling to fade. Both of them are far too into marking the other up, and they’re nearly spotted with bruises. Which, presumably, will be a problem when they eventually have to venture into public, but Zayn’s taking full advantage now.

Zayn thinks Liam looks like art with joggers hanging off his hips and a pathway of bruises down his chest, and when he wraps his arms around Liam from behind in the kitchen, it’s nowhere near innocent.

They giggle in Zayn’s ruined sheets until the early hours of the morning, whispering confessions between them as they try to figure out how they both fell in love without intention. They’d both been so blind for so long, and it feels impossible, that they could see each other for so long without really seeing.

Zayn wouldn’t change it though.

Liam feels like another part of him, and he knows it’s only because of what they’ve already been through. He wouldn’t jeopardize how he feels now with Liam for more time, but he’s willing to risk everything to keep this now.

And he knows Liam feels the same.

It’s an amazing thing, Zayn thinks, to love equally and completely. He won’t waste it, and he won’t give it up, now that he’s got it. Now that he’s got Liam.

 

And Friday morning, they arrive to the meeting together. Their hands aren’t clasped together, and the empty spaces between Zayn’s fingers feel foreign, but he’s reassured every time Liam catches his eye.

Their team launches immediately into their plan for the staging of Liam and Zayn’s break up, and Liam – the little shit – lets them get all the way through it with a quiet smile on his face. Zayn watches on in amusement, not cutting in because they’d agreed that Liam would be the one to do it, but he can’t believe he’s fallen in love with this boy, mischief dancing in his eyes like a misbehaving child.

When the team finally stops and looks at them expectantly, Liam’s grin widens. He reaches over for Zayn’s hand, tangles their fingers together, and rests their clasped hands on the table, casual as anything.

“That’s great,” his grin grows with every word. “But unnecessary.”

Zayn badly covers up his snort and wants to throw a hand over his face to hide how hopelessly fond he is of this idiot beside him. “Babe,” he warns.

Liam smirks at their confused management team. “See, Zayn and I are together now. So we’ll be needing a new plan of action, I think.”

Its dead quiet for a moment, and Zayn’s having a ridiculously hard time keeping his laughter in check. Liam’s just so clearly enjoying himself, a fucking toddler smiling as he gets away with something, and it’s all hopeless.

He does manage to keep the laughter in, right up until the silence is broken by a deep sigh. He and Liam both look over to see Megan staring at them, a look of hopeless defeat on her face. She doesn’t say a word, just stares at them with a lost expression.

Zayn loses it.

 

They tell everyone gradually, and it’s a complicated mess as they figure out who exactly knows what and what they should say, and Zayn wouldn’t trade it for anything. He’s completely in love with the feeling of Liam looking over his shoulder as they scroll through website after website celebrating their ‘make up’ and it’s amazing, that this time people are celebrating their actual relationship.

He wouldn’t trade away the moment he tells his family, with Liam pressed firmly into his side, and they all whoop with joy.

He wouldn’t trade the thousands of quiet moments in between the major ones, the moments that he’ll hardly think about ten years from now, but the moments that resonate with him now. Curling together on the couch, in bed, whenever they’re standing close enough. Pressing kisses to foreheads, cheeks, shoulders, noses in greeting. Fingers skimming over spines, shoulders, backs, arms as they pass each other by while walking. Every little instance spills over in Zayn’s mind until he’s not sure how he survived for so long without Liam constantly around to ground him.

He wouldn’t trade any of that away.

However, he would possibly trade away how enamored the gossip sites are with them though. He hates their ship name, but Liam loves it, and he loves Liam. They both hate the stupid titles of most of the articles though, can’t stomach the terrible puns that the rest of the band gets far too much joy out of reading out loud.

The only article title that Zayn accepts, in fact, is one that pops up just under a year later, and when he reads it he grins.

“Hey babe,” he calls eagerly.

Liam comes stumbling into the bathroom doorway of Zayn’s flat (it’s actually theirs in all but an official capacity, though Zayn’s working on that), mouth a foamy mess. Zayn snorts at the ridiculous picture he makes, chest bare and hair a wreck from Zayn’s eager fingers, but toothbrush firmly in his mouth as he raises an unimpressed eyebrow at Zayn.

“Listen to this,” Zayn grins wider. “‘Boybanders to Bond: Zayn Malik and Liam Get Engaged.’” He glances up at Liam, watching the way his face softens at the obvious joy Zayn is experiencing at the official announcement of their engagement, and Zayn knows that Louis thinks they’re an absolute mess over each other (‘Worse than Haz and I, honestly.’) but he doesn’t care. He clearly remembers not being able to speak with Liam on one knee in the quiet of this very same flat, and he doesn’t give shit if he and Liam melt around each other, so long as he has the promise that they’ll do it for the rest of their lives.

“They want to know if we’re going with Liam Malik, or Zayn Payne,” he continues. “What do you think?”

Liam nearly chokes, and then he disappears from the doorway. Zayn laughs loudly at the hurried sounds of the sink turning on and Liam spitting. Liam’s back in a moment, nearly vaulting onto the bed. He takes Zayn with him, so that they both tumble to the bed, laptop knocked eschew as Zayn laughs loudly and barely puts up a fight, so that Liam pins him down with ease.

“I think,” Liam growls. “That you’re a dick for asking me that when I can’t respond. I could’ve choked.”

Zayn laughs, fingers tangling in Liam’s hair once more. “Sorry, sunshine. But you have to admit that Liam Malik has a nice sound to it.”

Liam groans, and it’s decidedly not in annoyance. He shifts over Zayn and stares at him with clear intention in his eyes. Zayn’s stomach jumps with anticipation. “Don’t know,” he hums. “I quite like Zayn Payne.”

Zayn’s eyes narrow. “You’re joking.”

Liam plays innocent. “I like my last name, babe. Might want to keep it.”

Zayn tilts his head, weighing how possible it is that Liam could be serious about this. Not very, he decides, but still... There’s just absolutely no way he’s going to allow that to become his name. Absolutely not.

So he fixes Liam with a burning look, “Bet I could convince you otherwise.”

Liam’s grin is nothing short of devious. “Was hoping you would say that.”

 

They don’t arrive at a definite answer that night or the next or the next, but Zayn doesn’t mind. They have a very effective way of arguing over it, after all. And besides, they have time. He and Liam might have wasted time in the beginning, but now they have so much of it. The rest of their lives, in fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was it. Honestly, I don't know how I feel about it, but hopefully you guys enjoyed it. 
> 
> Come shout at me on tumblr: softlyandswiftlyao3.tumblr.com
> 
> xxT


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